Desperation
by TheDreamyOne
Summary: *completed* Forced to play the role of a CIA patsy, Donovan has a tough decision to make. No matter what choice he makes; he loses. [Frank/Shay fic]
1. Full Circle

Title:                Desperation

Author:            The Dreamy One

Rating:            R

Type:               Drama/Angst

Summary:       Forced to play the role of a CIA patsy, Donovan has a tough decision to make.  No matter what choice he makes; he loses.  [Frank/Shay fic]

Disclaimer:    UC:Undercover and its characters are the property of NBC, Shane Salerno, etc.  No infringements intended.  Shay, the kids, Thomas, Katie, Deirdre, etc. are the property of the author; please do not use without permission. 

***

Paperwork.  His life consisted of more paper than was housed in the Library of Congress.  Bureaucrats and their paperwork would be the death of him someday.  He groaned inwardly as another file was tossed into his in-basket.  Looking up he found his gangly computer genius standing at the foot of his desk.  "Something you need, Cody?"

"No...just wondering if Shay was taking the day off or something.  I was supposed to teach her how to use the new surveillance software."  

Donovan leaned back in his chair, rubbing the fingers of his right hand gently over his lips.  "She hasn't made it in?"  He had been strapped to his desk all morning filling out reports and he hadn't taken the time to see if everyone had arrived.

"No and I tried to call her cell, but just keep getting her voicemail."

Frank nodded.  "I'll check around.   How's that new voice-over software coming along?"

Cody scrunched up his face.  "It's not."

"Then get it working," Frank ordered, effectively dismissing Cody.

He took a minute to call Thomas Renquist, Shay's father, to see if she had dropped the kids off at his house for the day.  Yes, she had.  He also called Cody's wife, Katie, but found that she had not heard from Shay since the previous day.  His worry mounted when he called her cell and was asked to leave a voicemail message.  

He remembered, back in the not too distant past, when Shay had been disappearing mysteriously during the time he was being hunted by a CIA spook who turned out to be none other than Shay's allegedly deceased mother.  The reason for those disappearances turned out to be innocent.  Shay had only been seeking help in trying to slay her own personal mental demons.  

Thinking she could have stopped by the women's crisis center, where she volunteered as a councilor twice a week, he called the administrator of the facility.  This wasn't her day to volunteer, but it was worth a shot.  To his dismay, no one had heard from her.

Exhaling a nervous breath, he pushed back from his desk and went in search of Cody.  He found him at his console banging his head repeatedly on the desk.  "A new kind of therapy?"  Donovan asked, slightly amused.

"Funny...." Cody replied, lifting his head in irritation.  "There are enough bugs in this software to infest Europe," he complained.

"Humph," Donovan grunted.  "Well, can that for the minute.  Find Shay's car," he ordered.

Cody glanced at his boss quickly, but didn't detect any hint of worry on his part.  "Something wrong?"

"No one's seen her since she dropped the kids off at Dad's," Frank replied quietly.  

Cody nodded and punched up the tracking software and entered the request for Shay's red Celica.  Odd.  "About three miles away from Mr. Renquist's home."

It was that precise moment that Jake came in gingerly carrying a small, rectangular shaped package he had found at the door when he arrived for work.  "Frank...this has your name on it."

Frank took the proffered package and carefully opened it.  A videocassette.  The knot that formed in his gut hit him so fast and so hard, you would have thought Evander Holyfield had come along and sucker punched him.  Events from two weeks prior surfaced and screamed in the back of his mind.  _You're crazy, Donovan.  No way._

Handing Cody the cassette, he joined the others at the briefing table and sat motionless waiting for the message to be delivered.  His stomach churned and the bile rose in his throat as the images appeared on the monitor.  

The silhouette of a woman with honey-blonde hair seated at a small conference table came into view.  She was being held in an interrogation room of some type, her hands were cuffed behind her back and a blindfold covered her eyes.  The bruises on her one visible cheek were fresh, as was the split in her bottom lip where a thin line of blood trickled down her chin.  _Shay._

"No wonder we can't find her," Cody whispered as he glanced at Frank.  His boss sat motionless and emotionless watching the monitor.  _How can he be so calm?  If it were Katie, I'd be a raving lunatic._

His attention turned back to the monitor when Shay finally spoke.  "Who's there?"  Her head turned toward the camera as if she heard a presence nearby.

"That's not your concern," a voice replied.  It was a deep voice, male and husky.  "Your concern is to convince your husband to carry out my request."

"What the hell are you talking about?"  she demanded, straightening herself in the chair.

"He didn't tell you, did he?" the voice questioned with amusement.  "Now, why doesn't that surprise me?"

"What the hell do you want from us?" Shay demanded angrily.  

"From you...nothing," he answered pointedly.  "However, your husband knows full well the price for your release."  

"You fucking bastard," she spat as she struggled against her bonds.  "I don't know what you want from him...and I don't give two shits.  _Let him be already!!_"  

_Jesus, we've come full circle,_ Frank thought angrily while watching his Ashling struggle to free her wrists from the handcuffs that held her.  How long had it been since Thomas Renquist delivered him a video of a young woman held captive at the hands of a Colombian drug lord?  But this was different; she was in this situation because of him, because he had refused the request of a former associate yet again.  

He watched as the camera zoomed in on her face, showing more clearly the bruises that had been inflicted upon her.  He felt the anger boiling in his blood.  Never one for violence if it could be handled any other way, he was ready to kill.  Murder, ugly and brutal.  _His wife, for God's sake!   They dared to threaten his gift, his vision.  _

"I must apologize for the state your wife is in.  She put up quite a fight and I'm afraid we found it necessary to manhandle her just a bit," the voice explained in arrogant simplicity.  "To ensure that she is not punished further, I expect you to do as you were asked, Mr. Donovan.  I await your reply."  

The video faded to black.  Cody and Jake stared at the screen in disbelief and silently wondered what exactly the man behind the camera had wanted from Frank Donovan that they would hold his wife ransom until they got what they demanded.

Jake stood and began to pace around the room waiting for Frank to react.  His own emotions churned in turmoil.  Who would kidnap Shay, the main reason he and Frank had become more like brothers than co-workers?  And growing closer to him over these past couple of years, Jake knew full well the depth and strength of Frank's love for Shay.  He watched while Frank sat entranced by the blank screen, as if seeing something that no one else on the planet was privy to.

Cody went to the video player and ejected the tape.  He noticed Frank still seated at the table, staring at the darkened screen as if he was still watching the scene unfold.  Knowing his own anger and fear for Shay was building to extreme proportions, he could only imagine what Donovan was going through.  If he was going through anything, that is.  The man looked as if he was stone, an unfeeling rock that let nothing through.  Even after all this time, it still amazed Cody how guarded Frank was with his emotions.  With the exception of the team's shared vacation, he never let loose with his feelings.  Only with Shay, and only if he believed no one was paying any attention to them.  No, he was still the IceMan.

Suddenly, Frank released a tortured howl and bolted from his seat, causing both Jake and Cody to jump back from him.  Frank grabbed the edge of the table directly in front of him and violently tossed it onto its side.  It crashed to the floor noisily; papers and drinks scattered and splattered, but he paid them no mind.  His thoughts were in a tortured, haunted place.  A place he thought he had left for good, but the son-of-a-bitches just would not let him go.  

He felt as if he had died a thousand tormented deaths when his precious wife appeared on that monitor.  She was once again paying for something in his past.  Would it never die and leave him in peace?  Did he not deserve some semblance of happiness in his life?  He knew without a doubt that Shay, his wife and mother of his children, deserved every happiness.  _And what have you ever given her? Nothing but heartache after heartache!_

Jake and Cody watched in commiseration when Frank sank to his knees, his face buried in his hands.  Jake knew the pain and torment of a loved one being held hostage.  He knew the gamut of emotions that Frank was going through.  Fear, despair, frustration, helplessness, anger, rage.  Each one would cycle through his brain and take hold of his body in a torturous, physical, and, yet, solely mental attack.  

Taking a deep breath, Frank stood and tried, without much success, to get his emotions under control.  He rubbed the back of his neck in an attempt to alleviate the tension that knotted there.  He wanted to rip a hole into the world to find and grab hold of the shining light of his life.  His beacon...his guide to safe harbor.  But she was where he would never be able to get to her.  He had no choice; there was no other answer.  

Each of the three men had been so deep into their own emotions; they had not noticed Alex's entrance.  "Whoa!  What happened here?" 

Frank gaped at the sight of the overturned table and the paper and spilled drinks that littered the floor.   Realizing he had lost control in front of everyone sans Alex, he felt mortified.  He was their leader, the one always so in control, and here he was tearing up the place.  _God help me, I've lost it this time._

The silence was deafening.  Cody felt the uneasiness from Donovan for his lack of self-control.  He knelt and began cleaning up the mess from the floor and glanced up at Alex.  "I don't remember the news mentioning a tornado passing through," he joked.  

Alex frowned at the sight of the three men hurriedly straightening up the mess on the floor.  "Where's Shay?  I found the cutest little outfit for Zack..."  

Frank slammed the table back down on its four legs and stared at Alex holding up a tiny pair of bib overalls and t-shirt that she had purchased for his son.  The chirping of a cell phone caused him to jump.  He fumbled for the phone clipped to his belt and hurriedly answered it.

Alex gawked at her otherwise composed boss.  Rarely had she seen him this agitated.  "What the hell's going on?" she asked Jake and Cody who just hung their heads without answering.

"Donovan," he answered quickly.

"Are you more inclined to fulfill my request, Mr. Donovan?"  

Donovan laughed menacingly.   "You've got me by the balls, Wingard.  I'll do what you ask and you better hope I die during this, you twisted fuck.   Because if I live...I can promise that you won't."  

Alex blinked and gaped openly at her superior.  She still had no clue as to what had happened, but by Donovan's intensity and actions she'd never witnessed from him before, she knew something was terribly wrong.

***

To be continued...


	2. Struggles

***

Earlier that morning 

"Struggle all you want, Mrs. Donovan," a voice called out to her from across the room, "but be assured you will not leave this facility until your husband caves to my demands."

Shay's head whipped up at the sound of the threat.  Her attempt at freeing herself from the handcuffs that held her arms behind her back was forgotten for the moment.  She tried desperately to recognize the voice, but it was unfamiliar to her.  

It killed her inside knowing that Frank was struggling with the decision of doing what this cretin asked or attempting to find her.  She had no idea what the vulture wanted, but she hoped frantically that her husband did not do as he was asked.  Whatever it was, to kidnap her into coercing him to fulfill the request, it had to be something awful, something that would destroy him.  Shay could not live with that.

"What's the point in all of this?" she demanded, her head following the sound of footsteps as they paced the room.

"As I said, it is of no concern of yours," Mitchell Wingard insisted as he turned hate-filled amber eyes onto the wife of Frank Donovan.  "You'll be held here until your husband carries out his _duty_."  

Shay felt a hand encircle her upper arm just before she was pulled roughly to her feet.  She jerked her shoulder in an attempt to remove the hand but was unsuccessful.  "What _duty_?  The man does his duty every damn day!"

"Tsk, tsk," he admonished acidly.  "Such loyalty for the traitor.  I don't believe he deserves it...from you...or anyone."

She had no other choice but to go along with the man as she was dragged from the room.  "How can you call him a traitor?" she asked incredulously.  No sooner had the question left her lips than she was shoved through another doorway and pushed carelessly down onto a cot.  

"I will call the bastard anything I like," he assured.  "This will be your home for the remainder of your stay with us.  I suggest you behave, unless you wish your children to be without both parents."

Shay's mouth gaped open at the thought of her children being orphaned.  _Sweet Jesus!  This man means to see Frank dead before this is over. _ Her own safety and well-being was never a concern; her only thoughts were for her husband.  

Her ears registered the sound of the door opening and closing and, deciding she was now alone, she began struggling with her bonds once again.  Her wrists were beginning to become raw from the metal scraping against her tender flesh, but the thoughts of her husband and children made the pain bearable.  

She strained her shoulder against the side of her head frantically trying to loosen the blindfold so that she could, at the very least, see her surroundings.  It still angered her that she had allowed herself to be taken.  

Three vehicles had surrounded her car after she had dropped the babies off at her father's house and had run her off the road.  Although she had pulled her gun and was about to exit the car to make a hasty escape on foot, she hadn't been fast enough and she was grabbed the moment the car door opened.

Slammed up against the side of the car, the air had been knocked from her lungs and she could not breathe, although she struggled forcefully against the arms that held her.  She managed to get in a few solid punches and kicks before she was rendered unconscious by the solid blow from the butt end of an attacker's gun to her cheekbone.

She could not fathom what these people wanted from Frank, what _duty_ they felt needed to be done.  Calling him a traitor had thrown her.  What could Frank have done to warrant such a title?  There was no sense to any of it, but the sad reality was that she was being held captive to force her husband to do something he had obviously refused to do.

It had been apparent from what her captor said earlier in the room as he spoke into, what she assumed, was some kind of recording device...video most likely.  Something to show Frank just what or who was at stake if he did not do as he was instructed.  Shay felt the bile rise in her throat at the thought of him following through on whatever the task might be.  

Why was it that he had neglected to mention this to her?  He had to have been contacted recently and yet he had not said one word about it.  They had made a promise...no more secrets.  She vowed to herself when she got her hands on him again, after she gave him a thorough loving, she would kick his ass for breaking that promise.

She readied herself for the pain of what she was about to do.  Her thoughts turned back to the last time she had been forced to do this little trick.  Donovan's team had been sent in to extract her from Uribe and Espinosa's compound in Bucamaranga, Colombia, after she had been discovered as DEA.  

Shay, then under the guise of Fallon Dumas, sat with an unconscious Frank Donovan for countless hours after witnessing his torture at the hands of Armando Uribe's vengeance riddled brother, Roberto.  There had been many times during those hours she waited for him to awaken that she wondered why he had risked his life on such a foolish mission.  Only after she had returned to his life after a brief absence had he told her that if he had not been under the direct orders of her father he would not have.  

At the time, her father, Thomas Renquist, headed the CIA.  Frank had no idea that he was being sent in to rescue Thomas' daughter.   He felt absolutely no allegiance to the CIA, but he did have respect for the man who had set the task before him.  He could have bucked the system and called Thomas' bluff, but it was not in him to refuse the man.  For whatever reason, Frank had sensed his desperation and their past together would not allow him to pass on the mission.  So, under orders from the Director of the CIA, he went after Fallon Dumas.  

Shay worked her thumb into position to give it the hard yank that would dislocate it and allow her to slip out of the cuffs.  It had been the trick that allowed her and Frank to escape Uribe's clutches.  She never had been able to determine the exact moment she fell head over heels for him, but she was fairly certain it was during the moments he had been tortured so vilely by Uribe.  His strength and courage had overwhelmed her and she had never felt such pain in her own heart while witnessing the pain of another.  The hours she sat with him afterwards, trying to offer comfort while his body was wracked with shakes and convulsions was heartbreaking.  

One hard pull and she would be free of the cuffs and could try to escape.  She needed to get to Frank before he made a decision out of pure desperation.  In her heart, she knew he would do whatever they asked.  He knew this monster, the man that was holding her, and he knew the consequences if he did not do as they asked.  Shay did not want to be the reason for his ultimate destruction.  Whatever his task, it would surely scar him and she would lose the man that was Frank Donovan.

She wrapped the fingers of her right hand around her left thumb, gripping it tightly.  As she closed her eyes and gave it a hard tug, she bit down on her lip to stifle the cry of pain that threatened.  She whimpered slightly as she tugged the cuff from her left hand and with a harsh curse, she pushed her thumb back into place.  

"That was highly unnecessary, Agent Donovan."

Shay's head whipped up toward the voice.  It was not the same man who had dragged her into the room.  Had he been here the entire time?  She was sure the door never opened after the other man had left.  "Who are you?"

"See for yourself," he suggested as he reached down and removed the blindfold from her eyes.  He waited until her vision cleared then knelt before her, unlocking the remaining cuff and removing it from her wrist.  "Pretty handy trick."

Shay shrugged, holding back the urge to attack the sandy haired man with all she was worth.  "Whatever.  Who are you?"  He was about a foot shorter than her husband and a bit on the gangly side.  She was sure she could take him easily enough.  

"Name's Derek, if it matters," he replied loosely.  "I'll be keeping an eye on you while you're here."

"Let me go, please," she pleaded urgently.  "I don't understand what this is all about, but..."

Derek stood and moved away from her.  "Please, don't.  It won't change a thing.  I'm under orders," he informed her.  "You can talk until you're blue in the face, but I have my orders."

Shay sat back, leaning against the wall, only slightly defeated.  There was something about this man, something that he held in his hazel eyes that told her he was not so attached to his orders.  She could be wrong...but what if she was right?  

***

"Time to share, Donovan," Alex commented as he reached for his jacket and pulled out his car keys.

  
Frank shook his head and shrugged into the garment.  "No time, Alex."

She made a move to go after him when he headed for the door, but he was stopped when Jake stepped in his path. 

Frank released an irritated breath and scrubbed his hand over his jaw.  "Let me put this as delicately as I can...get the hell out of my way!"  

Jake's response was to fold his arms over his chest and stare Frank down. 

"Fine," Frank spat, reaching out and taking Jake by the shoulders.  One hard shove and Jake landed on his backside.  "I'll only say this once.  Stay the hell out of this.  Shay's life is at stake and you _will not_ interfere."  He strode purposefully to the door without looking back.

"We have every right to..." Jake began.

Donovan spun on his heel, his eyes blazing with anger.  "NO! You have no right," he insisted.  "She is _my_ wife as well as an agent under _my_ charge.  I hold all the cards here, Jake.  Don't fuck with this...you'll only get her killed."

"Frank," Alex inserted softly.

He shook his head.  "Trust me on this, Alex.  Please.  I promise you that Shay will be fine...I _guarantee_ it."

Alex nodded and reached for Jake when he pulled himself to his feet and made a move for Frank.  "No, Jake...let it go."

After Frank disappeared through the doorway, Jake released a heated breath.  "I can't let it go, Alex."

"Neither can I, Jake...neither can I," she admitted.  "But pushing him when he's like this will only result in the two of you coming to blows, and he'd knock the shit out of you.  Can't you understand?" she asked as she lit a cigarette, her eyes raking over him.  "She's all he's seeing now, he'll focus on that only.  He'll do what it takes to see that she's released unharmed."

"But what exactly _will_ it take?" he asked anxiously.  

"That's something we'll have to find out," Cody interjected, finally joining in the conversation.  

"Where do we start?" 

"I traced the call he received, Alex," Cody informed her.  "It was a cell phone and unidentifiable.  Mean anything to you?"

Jake nodded.  "Just as our cell numbers cannot be identified by outsiders.  The call he received was from someone in our government."

"Bingo." 

***

To be continued...


	3. Goodbyes

***

Frank pulled into the driveway of his father-in-law's home and turned off the Blazer's engine.  He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes.  He had to see his children one last time before he left to do Wingard's bidding.  He had no idea when or if he would get the chance to see them again.  Whatever was to happen in the future, he would not let the kids know anything was wrong.  He put on his normal, loving facade and made his way to the house.

He did not bother knocking, that was a custom he had long ago given up when entering Thomas Renquist's home.  He found LJ and Ariel playing happily, albeit a bit noisily, in the large family room.  Thomas was reclining in his easy chair, enjoying his paper.  "Dad," he called softly.

Thomas looked up from his paper.  The look in Frank's eyes told him something was terribly wrong.  Something Frank had discovered after calling looking for Shay.  That call had made him nervous, but after not hearing back from Frank, he assumed Shay had turned up and all was well.  

"Daddy!" LJ and Ariel squealed in unison, jumping up from their places on the floor and running to him, each wrapping themselves around one of his legs.  

Frank gently peeled them away and knelt to give them a hug.  "Go play, darlings.  Daddy needs to talk to Grandpa."  He kissed their cheeks and patted their butts softly, sending them on their way.

Thomas approached Frank and together they moved into the hallway, out of earshot.  "Frank..."

Frank shook his head.  He really had no idea how to broach the subject.  "Thomas...Shay's been taken...and being held prisoner to..."  The words died in his throat as he watched Thomas' face drain of all color.  "Thomas, are you all right?" he asked and reached out a hand to steady his father-in-law.  

"No, I'm not all right, Frank," he spat angrily.  "What do you mean 'she's been taken'?"

Frank's hand went to the back of his neck and began to knead the ache that had developed.  "She's being held as leverage....leverage to force me to take a job that I had refused."

"That's..."

Frank released a hateful laugh.  "That's the CIA for you," he ground out.  "Once their hooks are into you, you're theirs until you die."

"No, Frank...that's not true.  I assure you."  Thomas laid a hand on Frank's shoulder.  "Tell me the details...I'll find a way..."

Frank's head shook furiously.  "No...no...you won't find a way.  That's just it."  

"Tell me who approached you," Thomas insisted.

"What's the point?  Besides, I think you know."  He pushed away from Thomas.  "I wanted to see the kids before I go, and that's all, Thomas.  I need you to take care of them, please don't interfere."

Sighing heavily, Thomas moved aside when Frank headed toward the stairs.  "I'll do whatever you want, Frank...but Shay is my..."

"Wife," he finished and stopped halfway up the stairs.  "She's also my life, Thomas, and I'll see to it that she's safe.  Don't doubt that."

"I don't doubt that, Frank."

"Good.  Now excuse me while I say goodbye to Zack.  Give me a few minutes and send LJ and Airy upstairs, please," he asked before turning and resuming his trek upstairs.

He found his son asleep, napping in the crib that was kept there for him.  He stirred slightly when Frank lifted him into his arms.  With each day, his features became clearly the combination of his parents'.  Frank's dark coloring and features mixed with Shay's brilliant blue eyes and determined chin.  

He watched his son sleeping for a few moments before LJ and Ariel joined them.  He knelt down, Zack still cradled in his arms, to speak to his babies.  "You know Daddy loves you?"

Ariel nodded, her silky black curls bobbing around her little face, "Uh-huh, Daddeeee.  Me'n LJ love you, too."

"You do?" Frank asked playfully and watched as their heads bobbed in unison.  "Well, that's the best thing I've heard all day!" he assured them as his free arm wrapped around both of them and pulled them in for a tight hug.  

After a few moments, he pulled away.  "Daddy has to go away for a little while.  I want you to promise to be good for Grandpa and look out for each other."

Their little eyes fixed onto his and he knew he needed to leave before he broke down in tears.  There was not much that could cause him to weep like a baby, but his family had managed to bring him to tears on several occasions.  The depth of his wife and children's love never ceased to amaze him.  That alone had, at times, rendered him helpless to his tears.

After a few more hugs and promises that they would be good for their grandfather, Donovan left feeling as though he had left his soul behind.  In a sense, he did.  Each one of them carried a piece of him and now he was giving it all away to save the best part of him.  There was no question.  He gave it willingly.  In the end, she was all that mattered.

***

Shay glanced impatiently around the whitewashed, cinder blocked room she was being held in.  There were no windows in the room, nor were there any in the thick, heavy steel door that shut her out from the world.  She could not see out, but the camera stationed in the corner of the room let her know that someone could see her. 

The lock clicked loudly in the quiet room, and Shay watched as Derek entered carrying a small tray.  He placed the tray on the small table near the cot.  It contained a sandwich and a bottle of water.  No utensils.  She looked up at him, annoyed.  "What?  Afraid I'd hack my way out with a butter knife?"

"Very funny, Mrs. Donovan," Derek replied.  "Can't be too cautious.  I'm sure you wouldn't hesitate to use even a butter knife on me."

Shay nodded and uncapped the bottle, sniffing the contents suspiciously.  She did the same to the sandwich.  

"It's not poisoned or drugged, I assure you."

"That's comforting," she snapped before taking a sip of water.  "And you're right...I would use it on you in a heartbeat."

"Of course you would.  I would expect nothing less."

Shay eyed him for a moment and then began eating the sandwich.  Turkey.  She hated turkey, but at this point, hunger was not an option.  She needed to keep her wits about her.  

"Tell me what this is all about, Derek," she asked calmly.  At least, she hoped she appeared calm.  Inside, her nerves raged a battle, screaming at her to attack him and beat him into the ground.  At this point, she knew it was a desperate attempt to gain freedom to get to her husband.  She also knew that once she got past Derek, there were others waiting outside.  She would never succeed.  

"There's nothing I can tell you."  Whether she believed him or not, he was telling the truth.  What little he knew would give no insight as to why this was happening.  If he spilled his guts to her, he would wind up a faceless corpse in the local morgue.  

"That man...the man who brought me in...he said things about my husband that are not true," she continued, hoping to draw him out.  "I would really like an explanation."

Derek moved to the chair in the corner of the room and sat down.  "It's a matter of perception, Mrs. Donovan," he began.  "To your husband, his actions are purely reasonable.  To his former associates, they can be interpreted as treason."

"What actions are these, Derek?  What did Frank do?"  She sat back on the cot, tucking her legs underneath her.  There was nowhere she could go; she could not get through that door without the key.  At this point, the man who sat opposite her was her only chance.

Derek ran a hand through his hair.  "What did he do?" He laughed harshly.  "He did nothing more than say no, Mrs. Donovan.  He said no to the wrong person."

Shay looked at him in disbelief.  "He is being punished because he will not be a lapdog to the CIA?  No, there has to be more to it than that."

Derek shrugged.  "If there is, I'm not privy to it."

"Sweet Jesus!" she exclaimed as she flew off the cot and stormed over to Derek, grabbing him up by the shirt collar.  "How can you people do this?  My father never would have approved!"  

Derek struggled to release himself from her grip and then took her by the shoulders.  "You don't know that.  You have no idea of the things your father approved."

"You know him then?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I do.  He's a good man, but he can be as ruthless as needed," Derek assured.

Shay nodded.  "I have no doubts about that.  He knew his job and did what was _necessary_."  She pulled away from Derek and walked to the far wall before turning around and facing him.  "Do you think Thomas Renquist would do this?"

Derek's eyes never left hers while he contemplated her words.  Would he?  Would his former boss exact a personal vendetta against a former operative?  

"Would he kidnap an agent's wife...threaten her life as well as his...perhaps kill them both and leave their children orphaned?"  Shay took the steps necessary to bring her face inches from his.  "_Would he_?"

"No."

"Let me go, Derek...let me get to my husband before he does what's been asked of him," Shay pleaded.  

"It's impossible," he answered firmly.  "I have orders."

Shay growled and struck out, pushing Derek away from her.  His back hit the wall hard.  "Get out...get out."  When he knocked on the door, signaling to the outside guard to open it, she sneered, "Grow a pair of balls, Derek.  Orders are not always meant to be followed.  Sometimes you have to question them."

Derek cast a look in her direction before he slid through the doorway.  He was resigned to follow Wingard's orders.  He had for months now and he had never questioned them.  He was a 'by the books' guy.  He was supposed to follow orders.  He signaled to the guard to lock the door as he left her behind.  

***

Frank entered his house shortly after saying goodbye to his children.  His heart ached from the thought he might never see them again.  _Damn you, Wingard.  Damn you and this need you have to keep me under your thumb._  He felt the tears that pricked his eyes; he struggled to push them away as he hurried up the stairs to the master bedroom.  The minute he entered, he wished he had just gotten into the car and drove.  

Shay was all around him.  Her scent, her presence, her very essence filled the room.  It normally surrounded him, coated him like a comforting blanket.  Today it only amplified his grief and how much he missed her.  His entire being was aching with the need to feel her in his arms. 

He entered the walk-in closet and was immediately transported back to the first day he had ever set foot in the small room.  It hadn't been long after Shay had transferred to Chicago to take Monica's place as his profiler and he had been helping her find a house for her, her son, and her father.  He was different when he was with her, looser, more playful, and it didn't take long for them to wind up in a somewhat compromising position while checking out the large closet.  

Remembering the shocked look on the Realtor's face when she happened upon them would have made him laugh if it weren't for the despair he felt at the thought of his wife being held captive.  Her bruised and battered face flashed into his mind and rage filled every part of his being.  

He grasped for the bar, hangers and all, as he collapsed against the wall at the thought of her being brutalized.  As her husband, it was his job to protect her and he had failed her.  He knew Wingard had no intention of killing her, but it did not stop the guilt, the pain, and the sheer gut wrenching inability to change what had happened.  

What he wanted more than anything was to search out and find Wingard.  Wrap his hands around the coward's throat and squeeze until every ounce of life slipped from his body.  He deserved nothing less for touching his gift, his vision.  The sad reality was that he could search the world over, but Wingard had the capability of keeping Shay hidden from him forever.  For every step he and his team could make in finding her, Wingard could see to it that they were shoved three steps back.

A defeated growl escaped him as he pulled down a duffle bag from the closet shelf and shoved a few personal items into it.  As he exited the small room, the sudden ringing of the telephone startled him, causing him to drop the bag to the floor.  He quickly snatched up the receiver from the bedside stand.  "Donovan."

"Leave your cell phone behind.  Under the mat at your front door you'll find a key.  It fits a locker at the train station.  In that locker you'll find a set of keys to a vehicle parked in front of the station.  A phone is stashed in the glove compartment.  Once you have the phone, speed dial number three."

"Fine," Frank bit out.

"I'll know if you take any tracking devices with you.  Lose them or your wife dies."

"I get the program, Wingard.  I'm not an idiot."

"Better get a move on, Donovan.  You've got a long road ahead of you."

Frank listened to the annoying sound of the phone line gone dead for a moment before smashing it back down onto its cradle.  Wingard had him just where he wanted him.  There were only four people in his life that he would give up everything for -- his wife and three children.  Nothing else mattered to him; certainly not his career, even his life was secondary to theirs.  He was now nothing more than a trained CIA pup and he was off to do their bidding.

***

To be continued...


	4. Mission Revealed

***

After securing a sitter for his grandchildren, namely his neighbor, Hanna, Thomas made his way to the Nest hoping to catch Frank.  He had gone by the house and found it empty.  He had also called Frank's cell phone repeatedly, but only got voicemail.  His last option was the special ops headquarters, but when he entered the building, he only saw Alex, Jake, and Cody.

"Is there a way of tracking Frank?" he asked unceremoniously.

Cody nodded.  "Of course, I've been tracking him.  He's headed downtown at the moment."

"We're trying to figure out who's holding Shay, sir," Alex informed him.

"I know who it is," Thomas admitted.  "So does Frank.  And as much as I'd like to murder the bastard, I have no idea where to find him."

"He's got to be somewhere close by," Jake reasoned.  "Shay was taken this morning and the video tape turned up a couple of hours later."

"Yes, but there are hundreds of places he could stash her," Cody piped up.  "Narrowing it down would be helpful."

"Or enlisting someone's help...someone close to Wingard," Thomas mused.

"Wingard?  As in...Mitchell Wingard?" Jake asked flabbergasted.

Thomas nodded as he dialed the phone.  "I suspected him of putting that hit out a while ago on Frank, but I haven't had any success in proving it."  He paused and listened to the voice that answered his call.  "Damn voicemail.  Derek, this is Thomas Renquist.  I think you know why I'm calling.  Contact me immediately."

"What the hell is behind all this, if it is Wingard," Alex demanded.  "We know Frank's background in the CIA, but if they wanted him gone, why wait all this time?"

"I'm hoping Derek can shed some light on that because, during my tenure, Frank Donovan was not an issue," Thomas answered sharply.  "In the meantime..."

"In the meantime," Cody interrupted, "Donovan's car just came to a halt.  He's at the train station."

"Let's go," Jake suggested, heading for the door.

"What good will it do?" Alex commented thoughtfully.  "He'll most likely ditch his car.  He's not answering his phone and he's ordered us not to get involved.  Even if we do catch up to him, he'll only issue the same orders."

"I agree," Thomas inserted.  "Our best bet is to locate Shay.  Once she's in the clear, we can go after Frank."

"If we can find him," Jake lamented, tossing on his jacket.  "So, while you wait for a call back from someone who probably won't call, I'm going to the train station."

"Do what you have to," Thomas agreed.  "Derek will call."

"I hope you're right, Thomas," he called back as he wrenched open the door and disappeared.

***

Frank entered the nondescript dark sedan and reached for the glove box.  Inside, just as Wingard had stated, was a small cell phone.  He snatched the phone out and sighed heavily as he sat back in the driver's seat.  He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to compose himself, before speed dialing as instructed.

"Very good, Donovan," Wingard answered snidely.  "Right on time."

"Tell me what you want, Wingard," Frank demanded, his anger growing by the moment.  "I'm only after one thing and that's the release of my wife.  The sooner you tell me your plans, the sooner this is over."

"Patience, my friend.  Along with the cell phone in the glove box, you should have found a small manila envelope."

Frank reached back over and opened the glove box and pulled out the envelope it contained.  "I have it."

"Open it."

Inside the envelope was a black and white photograph.  "What's this all about?"

"Your mission is very simple.  The subject in that photograph must be eliminated."

"No," Frank replied sternly.  He was many things, but he was not a murderer.

"No?  No?" Wingard questioned smugly.  "_No_ will only result in your wife's death."

"You bastard," Frank spat.  "You know I cannot do this," he lamented, fingering the picture.  

"You can and you will," Wingard assured.  "I've learned a lot about you over the years, Agent Donovan.  I know you have it in you to do whatever is necessary to protect your family."

Frank shook his head.  "Then you don't know me at all."

Wingard laughed harshly.  "I know you only too well, Donovan.  Tell me...look at that photograph and then think about your pretty wife and tell me...weigh the two against each other...and tell me you cannot do this."

Frank gripped the phone so hard he felt the pain travel from his fingers down the length of his arm.  "When and where?"

"That's better...much better.  Three days from now at 11am there'll be a political rally by the Potomac River just off the grounds of the Watergate Hotel.  Your room key is also in the envelope you're holding."

Donovan started the vehicle's engine and eased out into the flow of traffic.  "Why am I doing this, Wingard?  There has to be more to it than some perverted sense of revenge against me."  

"I have my reasons," Wingard supplied elusively.  "It could be that I just hate you enough to watch you kill an innocent.  It could be that your target will soon be in the position to make my life hell.  It could just be that I get off jerking you around.  You'll never know."

"I'll find a way to get to you, Wingard," Frank assured hatefully.  

"Now is that any way to talk to your wife's benefactor?  Drive Donovan, and don't be stupid.  If you get pulled over for something even as inconsequential as a speeding ticket, I'll perceive it as a way for you to contact your team.  Do that...and Shay dies.  Do anything that I have not ordered you to do...and Shay dies."

"I get the fucking picture, you psychotic bastard," Frank growled.  "I'll follow your orders, I'll do this job, and if my wife is not released alive and well...I'll..."

"You don't have to say it, Donovan.  I have no interest in your wife and she will be released once you fulfill this task.  Trust me on this; she will be returned to your children unharmed.  You'll understand more once you check into your room."

The phone clicked in his ear, signaling the end of the call.  Wingard, the rat bastard, was sending him to assassinate United States Senator Caroline Baxter.  Baxter was in line to be the next Vice President of the United States.  The election was just weeks away, and her running mate, Robert Hammond, was a shoo-in for President.  All the polls indicated they were well ahead and it would take a miracle for their opponents to beat them.  

Baxter made no secret of her opinion of the way the government agencies were run and her main target was the CIA.  Wingard's job, his future, his _power_ was at stake.  With Baxter gone, he could continue to run things in his twisted, demented way.

Frank slammed his fist against the dashboard. If there were any other way, any way of finding Shay on his own, he would turn the car around and drive it straight up Wingard's ass.  The one thing he did not doubt was Wingard's commitment to his threat.  If he made one false move, he would kill Shay.  

That thought alone could have made his mind up easily, but there was also the thought of his children being without their mother that sealed his fate quite solidly.  He could not bear the thought of them growing up without her, just as he could not bear the thought of her dying at Wingard's hands if there was a way he could prevent it.  No, he would see this through, even if it destroyed him in the process.

***

"Fine..." Derek mumbled into his cell phone.  "No, Sir, she won't leave my sight.  I'll be waiting for your call when you arrive."

Shay listened to the one sided conversation intently.  Derek was on the line with the man responsible for holding her captive.  From what she could gather the man had left the area and Derek was supposed to make sure she stayed put.  

"Yes, the highway reports will be monitored to ensure he isn't trying to contact his people that way," Derek acknowledged.

_Highway reports,_ Shay thought to herself.  _They must be discussing Frank...which means he's en route to wherever they're sending him.  Shay's fears became reality.  Frank was, indeed, sacrificing his honor and sense of self to obtain her release.  She sat back in the cot and banged her head against the wall in frustration.  If only she could get away and stop him._

Derek ended the call and fixed his eyes on his charge.  "Is there anything you need?"

"I need to get _out_ of here!" she growled irritably.  

"Agent Donovan..."  His reprimand was halted by the beep of his phone indicating he had a new voicemail message.  After pushing the button to retrieve it, he listened to the short message from Thomas Renquist.  Sighing heavily, he sat in the chair in the corner of the room.  "It seems your father wishes to discuss the terms of your release."

Inwardly Shay smiled.  "Good.  Maybe he can talk some sense into you."

Derek flicked her an irritated look before dialing the phone.  Although he was a by-the-book kind of agent, he was less than happy helping Wingard obtain his objective.  He never had much use for his current boss, but Wingard was his superior, nonetheless.  Still, he felt loyalty to his former boss and felt the least he could do was assure Renquist his daughter was alive and well.  "Hello, Thomas."

--

Thomas glanced in Alex's direction as he answered his phone.  "Derek... what the hell is going on?"  

Alex moved closer, sitting next to Cody at his console.  "Get a hold of Jake," she whispered.  "Tell him Thomas' contact has returned his call.  Keep the line open."

Cody nodded as he began dialing.

"Before you start in on me, Thomas, she's fine," Derek assured him.  

"Lucky for you and your boss," Thomas snapped.  "Let me talk to my daughter."

"Nooo...I don't think so."

Thomas paced the room as he spoke.  "Derek, what's behind this?  You don't have to deny or confirm Wingard has his hands in this, because I'm fully aware that he does."  

"Thomas, there's nothing I can do..." Derek trailed off as his eyes locked onto Shay's.  In them he saw pain, desperation, and fear.  He wondered about those emotions, because she displayed none of them outwardly.  It was then he realized her worries were not for herself, but solely for her husband.  

Although he did not know Shay Renquist Donovan, he did know her father.  Thomas spoke highly of his daughter and her ability to read people for what they were.  If that were true, and she could harbor such intense feelings for a man accused of treason, could it be possible that Wingard's vendetta was one of a personal nature?  That Frank Donovan, although stubborn, was not a traitor, only a man looking out for his life and that of his family's?  If Derek held any regard for the man he was now speaking to, he had no choice but to answer his conscience and do what he felt best.

"Derek, whatever Wingard's twisted philosophy, Shay shouldn't be used as a pawn against her husband," Thomas reasoned.  "Just what does he want Frank Donovan for?"

"That is something I do not know, Thomas," Derek admitted.  "I only know that Donovan was contacted to take on a mission and promptly refused.  You know how that sticks in Wingard's craw."    

"So he has alluded to time and time again," Thomas huffed.  "Derek, I'll go over your head if need be...right to the top."

Derek nodded slightly.  "I know that you could, Thomas.  But it's not necessary."  He sighed as he sat beside Shay on the small cot.  "I'll get her out of here somehow."  He handed the phone off to Shay.  "Make it quick."

Shay nodded; appreciation shone in her eyes.  "Dad...how are the babies?  Have you seen Frank?"

Thomas' heart broke at the sound of desperation in her voice.  "The kids are just fine, baby-girl.  Hanna is taking care of them."  He sighed heavily before continuing; he really did not want to tell her he had seen Frank, but she needed to know.  "Frank seemed...quite determined when he came by to see the kids, Shay."

"Determined, Dad?" her voice hitched in her throat as she spoke.  "Determined to...Oh God, Daddy...he's not coming back, is he?  He was saying goodbye to the babies," she cried as she leapt off the cot.  "Daddy...we've got to find him!"

Derek reached out and took the phone from her.  "Thomas, I'll call you as soon as I get her out of here," he stated, ending the call and grabbing Shay by the arm.  She was visibly agitated and he feared she was on the edge of hysteria.  "Calm down.  You need to hold it together unless you want to attract attention from the guards."

Shay took a deep breath and nodded.  "I'm fine...and I'll be even better when you get me the hell out of here."

Derek spun her around and reached into his jacket pocket.  He pulled out the cuffs he had removed from her earlier.  "I hate to do this to you..."

Shay hissed as the cold steel stung the raw areas of her wrists.  "What's your plan?"

"Nature calls from time to time, Agent Donovan...I'm merely escorting you," he explained.  "You stay quiet.  I'll lead you to the end of the hall.  The bathroom is around the corner...just past it is the stairwell."

"Thank you, Derek," she whispered as he reached for the door.

His hand stilled on the knob.  "Don't thank me yet."  

***

To be continued...


	5. Slight Detour

***

Jake entered the Nest twenty minutes after Cody had contacted him.  "Found Donovan's car," he announced, flopping down into the chair next to Alex.  Turning toward Thomas he asked, "Any further word from your friend, Derek?" 

Thomas nodded.  "He got her out of the building and he's bringing her here." 

"Does the whole world know we're holed up in this warehouse," he asked, exasperated.  

"They're the CIA, Jake," Cody quipped, slightly annoyed.  "If they want to find a tick on a dog, they will."

Jake rolled his eyes and began emptying his jacket pockets.  He laid down two Glocks and a set of FBI credentials.  "Frank left these hidden under the Blazer's front seat."

Alex picked up the credentials.  "He's one a one-way mission," she whispered.

"Not if I can help it."

All heads turned in the direction the voice came from.  Shay stood in the doorway beside her gangly escort.  Her face was bruised and there were some healthy raw welts on her wrists, but other than that she seemed in good health.  

Thomas hurried to her and caught her up in a crushing embrace.  "God, Shay...I nearly died when Frank told me you'd been taken."

Shay kissed his cheek tenderly as she returned the hug.  "I love you, too, Dad."  She gently pushed away and glanced at everyone in the room.  "I'm okay...really.  We need to find Frank before he follows through on whatever assignment he's been given."

"It would be helpful if we knew what the mission was," Cody commented, hugging her briefly.  "He's ditched his Blazer and there's no way to track him."

"There's no way to track _Frank,_" Alex inserted, moving to stand toe-to-toe with Derek.

Jake pulled back from hugging Shay.  "What are you getting at, Alex?" 

Cody sat down at his computer and leaned back in the chair.  He eyed Derek and Alex thoughtfully.  "What she mean is, we need to track Wingard.  It would also be helpful if we knew exactly what his hang up with The Big Guy is."

"Yes, it would be," Thomas agreed.  "Tell us what you know, Derek."

***

As Frank drove, he kept an eye on his speed.  He could not afford to be stopped by the State Troopers for anything.  One slip up and it could cost Shay her life and his precious children would be without both parents.  He was no fool; he knew there was no coming back from what he was going to do.  Would he follow through with it?  Hell yes, there was no question.  He would easily trade Baxter's life for his wife's.  

If he didn't go through with it, Wingard would enlist another agent to take out Baxter and, in the process, would make sure both he and Shay were taken out.  For a split second the thought that there was always the possibility that even when he took out the Senator, Wingard would kill Shay.  No, Wingard was not that stupid.  He would never believe that her father would sit idly by knowing full well who was behind this.  Wingard would release Shay if Frank did as instructed or Thomas would hunt him down and torture him slowly.  Just as Frank had an ugly past and was capable of what most people would believe monstrous behavior, Thomas was very much the same.  

He scrubbed a hand over his mouth and jaw as his thoughts returned to his children.  He ached to hold them again.  The brief goodbye at Thomas' could never be enough to satisfy him.  As much as Shay, his kids were his life and he missed the hell out of each and every one of them already.  

He clearly remembered the days that each of them entered his life.  LJ was already six months old the first time he had met him.  A little bundle of slobber and giggles, Frank had fallen in love with the child almost from the start.  All it took was one good spit up all over Frank's nice clean shirt and LJ had found a place in his heart.  If not for LJ's Hispanic heritage, no one would ever believe he was not his son by birth.  There was no distinction between LJ, Ariel, and Zachary.  They were all Donovan's, through and through.

A smile tugged the corners of Frank's mouth as he continued the long, boring drive through the lonely stretch of highway.  He had been present for the birth of Ariel and Zack.  He could smile about it now, but Shay had been one mean hombre in the stirrups.  Even in his depressed state he wanted to laugh and could feel the chuckle bubbling up from deep within him.  During each delivery she had threatened to neuter him to keep him from getting her in the family way again.  He had merely taken it all in stride and afterwards, while holding their newborn, she looked up at him and told him what beautiful babies he helped create and how much she loved him.  That, and she still wanted him neutered.  

His laughter soon ebbed as his thoughts turned to his Shay.  He had often thought he was the cause of so much grief in her life, but she would never let him feel that way for long.  She would sense his moods, almost as if she could read his mind, and prod him gently until he told her his fears.  They would talk for hours and usually wound up making love.  It was the one true way they could always express their feelings for each other.  

Afterwards, if he had been going through a time when he felt as though his presence in her life had caused her too much pain, she would laugh and tell him the only grief he ever caused her was having to haul his ass over her shoulder through the Colombian jungle.  Amazingly, she pointed out that if he had never attempted that rescue, if she had never taken the transfer and fell back into his life, if he had never accepted her back into his life, the world would be a different place.  She would most likely be dead, they would have experienced none of the love and joy they shared together, and most importantly, three little miracles would never have graced the earth.  When she put things into that perspective for him, he realized that even through the troubles, their love for each other had outshone any and all heartache.  

He never felt as complete as when he was with her, _within_ her, and she often said the same.  What he wouldn't give to have one more night with her.  He ached with the need to see her again.  When he left her earlier, did he even tell her he loved her?  God knows he would never get the chance to say it again.  He did tell her, he knew he did.  They never parted without saying those words for the very reason he was lamenting over now.  What if they never got the chance to say them again?  They knew danger lurked around every corner of their lives, it was embedded in their jobs and there was no way to escape that reality.  That thought brought back a night they shared about a month prior.  

_He remembered thinking how timid she appeared, standing at the balcony doors of their bedroom.  How unlike her that seemed, but she was still working through a few emotional demons.  She stood completely naked with her back to him as she peered through a small space she created in the curtains.  The moon was full and she loved watching the bright globe and shining stars when her thoughts were troubled.  _

_Their last assignment had taken its toll on her.  She had profiled a serial kidnapper/murderer of young children.  As each day passed, she clung more and more to their children.  She would call Thomas several times a day to make sure they were safe and hovered over them when they were home.  He could understand her fears; no one wants to lose their child to a predator such as the one who had been recently caught.  Her dark fears came from digging inside the criminal's mind and she was just beginning to let them go.  _

_Rising from the bed, he came up behind her and pressed his naked frame to hers.  It had only been hours since they had last made love, and yet he felt such a need to be close to her.  At his touch, she exhaled a soft gasp and released her hold on the curtain.  He reached out and gave it a firm sideways tug, opening it fully.  "Don't hide from them, mon cadeau.  They don't shy away from you and they want to see your beauty as much as you want to see theirs."_

_She remained speechless while his arm came underneath hers and covered her breasts, his hand cupping the left one and gently tweaking the hardened bud of her nipple.  His other hand slowly traveled down her side and around until it splayed across the triangle that pointed to her secret haven.  _

_Although he feared she might push him away, or recoil from such a public display, he was thrilled when she moaned softly and lolled her head back against his shoulder, allowing him access...giving him permission.  Truly, there was little fear that they would be seen.  It was 3:30 a.m. and their neighbors were not known to be night owls.  The balcony faced the back yard and large trees separated the houses, blocking anyone's view. He really did not care at this point; his need for her far outweighed the thought of a possible voyeur ruining the moment.  _

_"Tiger, I always knew you were a bit of an exhibitionist," she teased.  Her soft moans mixed with his throaty ones as he suckled the soft flesh at the side of her neck.  _

_When she reached behind and her hand fell on his growing hardness, his lips traveled smoothly down to her shoulder where he nipped none too gently.  Within minutes he was throbbing wildly, almost painfully in her skillful hand.  **A little torment of my own, dear wife?** he thought as he slid his hand between her thighs.  He worked his fingers over her at a gentle pace, increasing the pressure and speed as he massaged the heated flesh surrounding her womanhood.  She was his and, by the feel of her, she was ready for him.  His hand moved up to join its twin, cupping both breasts in his hands, kneading them, caressing the silken skin while tormenting the sensitive, hardened flesh at their peaks._

_She turned slightly.  With her back still pressed to his chest, she reluctantly freed his pulsating member, and moaned fervently when his mouth fell upon hers.  She delighted in his kisses, she had once told him.  What was it she had said?  "If kisses were art, Tiger, yours would be masterpieces."  He did not know about that, but he could spend a lifetime kissing her.  And as he kissed her, he continued to fill one hand with her breast while the other guided him into her moist haven.  She cried out softly, urgently when he thrust into her and she supported herself with one hand firmly planted on the doorframe.  Her other hand had filled itself with his buttock, squeezing firmly.  She dug her nails in for good measure, but it was an erotic pain that only urged him onward.  Her body bent slightly to accommodate him, and while he used her for support, he continued his rhythmic thrusts, while his hands worked a magic of their own, rubbing, tweaking, pinching the hardened button at her core. Again and again and again he rammed into her tight sheath as he felt his own climax building.  It began at the base, building in intensity and force until he thought he would go insane if he did not find release.  When he heard her intense cry, felt the shuddering and quivering of her own mind-numbing climax, he let go, spilling all that he had into her.  His need, his want, his desire, but most importantly, his love.  _

_As their bodies separated, she turned and collapsed into his embrace.  His whispers of his love for her mingled with her own soft-spoken testaments as he guided her back to their bed.  Sometimes he feared the intensity of his love for her.  Was it the fear of his feelings or the fear that always resided in the back of his mind that he would someday lose her?  That she would disappear from his life as quickly as she had entered it.   He would not deny that those thoughts plagued him constantly, even while things were at their happiest.  They had been through some dangerous situations and had come close to losing each other.  He feared that loss, that incompleteness.  He lay back on the soft mattress, bringing her with him, holding her tightly as they drifted off to sleep.  Exhaustion took him into dreamland with thoughts of love mixed with agonizing fear._

Two weeks later he received a phone call from Wingard and promptly hung up on the bastard.   

Frank was startled out of his trance by the harsh vibrations from the car's tires as they skirted the edge of the road.  Thunk thunk thunk thunk.  The car bounced over the rumble strips alerting him that he was headed off the road.  He jerked hard on the wheel, bringing him back onto the highway.  He released an irritated growl at his lack of focus and glanced in the rearview mirror when he heard the wailing sound of a police siren.

"Stupid sonofabitch," he cursed himself as the flashing blue and red lights assaulted his vision.  How in the hell would he get out of this?  He thought briefly about hauling ass and trying to outrun the cop, but the chances of doing that were slim in the vehicle he was in.  The police cruiser had a distinct advantage over the sedan he drove.  

Resigned to his fate, and perhaps that of his wife, he pulled the vehicle over.   There was a damn good possibility that even if he received a citation, it would not show up on the database before he reached D.C. and completed his task.  Of course, if this Highway Patrolman was quick about completing his paperwork, his wife was as good as dead.  

He felt the hysteria bubbling in the pit of his stomach as he watched the patrolman exit his vehicle and walk up alongside the driver's door.  He rolled down the window.  In the darkness he tried to get a look at the officer's face, but before that was possible, a flashlight shone in his eyes.  All he was able to note was the name on the man's badge.  Dumas.  How ironic.  "Officer?"

"Sir, may I see your license and registration please," Officer Dumas requested simply.  

Frank nodded and reached for paperwork tucked into the little cubby located on the door.  He had checked them out earlier; rental papers in the name of a dummy CIA Corporation.  He pulled out his wallet and flipped to his driver's license.  

"Mr. Donovan, been on the road long?"

"Feels like it," he answered with a half smile.  He desperately hoped his anxiety was not showing.  He felt the beads of perspiration develop on his forehead and upper lip and feared the officer could also detect them.

Officer Dumas handed the paperwork and license back.  "You ran off the road back there," he said, jerking his thumb toward the road.  "I think you should call it a night and get off at the next exit."

"It is getting late," Frank agreed, tucking the paperwork back into the door.

"I'm not writing you up, Mr. Donovan, but I am going follow you and make sure you get off the road.  The exit is two miles down and there's a small motel there."  He chuckled loudly.  "It's not much, mind you, but it's clean and it's a place to sleep."

"Thank you, Officer Dumas."  Frank rolled up window and let out the breath he had not been aware he was holding.  His heart pounded wildly in his chest and he thanked whatever gods were lurking for making Officer Dumas a considerate person instead of a citation monger.

***

To be continued...


	6. Little Visitors

***

Shay leaned against the counter in the break room, sipping the coffee Alex poured for her.  Numb inside, she barely noticed the beverage was so hot that it scalded her tongue and throat.  Uncaringly, she took another large swallow and turned cold, sky blue eyes onto Derek.  "I'm tired of waiting.  Derek, start talking before I lose my temper."

"Right," Cody agreed.  "The bruises on her face will be nothing compared to what you'll look like when she's through with you."

"Or me," Alex inserted.

"Count me in," Jake stated.  Taking the chair next to Derek, he flipped it around and straddled it, staring intently into Derek's face.  "Time to spill it."

"Look," Derek began, not in the least shaken by their threats.  "Whatever I tell you won't help you track down your boss."  His eyes fixed onto Shay, "Your husband."

"What's Wingard's obsession with Donovan?" Thomas demanded.

Derek shook his head.  "I really don't know, but I will confirm that he did call the hit on Frank by Dennison.  He knew the relationship between you and Dennison, Thomas.  And he took an awful lot of pleasure in programming the mother of Frank Donovan's wife to take him out."

"When...did he arrange that?" Shay asked, shaken by the memory of her mother's attempt to kill Frank.  The attempt ended the woman's life.  She took another sip of coffee before placing the cup in the sink and moved toward her father, settling in the crook of his arm.

He took in the sight of Frank Donovan's wife.  She looked shaken, yet still composed, although she leaned into her father for support.  "Shortly after the two of you married," he answered simply and watched her eyes widen in surprise.   "Dennison was programmed for nearly a year, ensuring her dedication to the assignment."

"Jesus," Alex exclaimed.

"What else," Shay prodded.

"Patriaka.  He had a little inside information on the agent-in-charge who protected Walker.  It was Wingard that led Patriaka to believe Donovan knew the whereabouts of Sonny Walker," Derek divulged.

"Oh God."  Shay paced the room as her anger grew.  Mitchell Wingard had caused two of the worst instances in their lives.  "Why would he do these things?"

"That is something I can't tell you," Derek assured.  "So you can see, what I do know is of little help to you."

"Not necessarily," Cody interjected.  "If you'll come with me, please?"  He took Derek by the arm and led him toward the door.

"Cody?" Thomas questioned.

Cody looked over his shoulder and nodded.  "Just a little research, Thomas.  I think it's time we had a look see into Wingard's personal files."

"No...I won't help you hack into..."

"Yes...you...will," Shay said bitingly.  "You helped Wingard set this shit up and you'll help end it.  Or you'll die trying."

Derek looked deep into her eyes.  Where he had seen love, warmth, and a desire to help her husband, all were now replaced with an icy determination he had seen many times within her father's eyes.  He had no doubt that she would pull the trigger herself if it meant saving Frank Donovan.  It was a true testament to their connection together.  Donovan was willing to kill to protect her and she would do the same for him.

"Don't worry, Shay," Cody began.  "I don't really need him, I just thought you might want him out of your sight for a while."

She nodded.  "Thanks, Cody."  Following him and Derek from the break room, she made a turn and headed for Frank's office while the others stared after her.  

"She gonna be okay?" Alex asked, folding her arms over her chest.

"Hard to say," Jake answered.  "But she really could use something to hold onto right about now."

"Got that covered," Cody stated as he sat down at his computer.  "They should be arriving in about a half hour."

Thomas patted Cody on the shoulder.  "Thanks, Forrester."

"No problemo, Thomas."

***

Frank checked into the little hole-in-the-wall motel and paid cash for the room.  He noted, thankfully, that there was not one computer in sight.  Apparently all the records were kept by hand.  Another prayer of thanks went up to the powers-that-be.  

After entering the tiny room, he stripped down and stepped into the steaming hot shower.  He did his best to blot out everything and tried to relax as the water pulsated and massaged his aching muscles.  He lingered there for as long as the hot water lasted, until he was good and pruney.    

He tried to separate himself from his troubles and failed miserably.  Each minute that passed brought more and more memories to the surface.  Some happy, some sad, but each one only made him miss his family more than the moment before.  Frustrated, he slammed his fist into the tile, succeeding only in bloodying his knuckles.  

The pain was of little consequence; the only thing that registered was his desire to see his wife, to hold her one last time.  Sadly, he would have to hold onto memories and cling to the ghost of her touch.  His thoughts were so vivid there were moments he was sure he could actually feel her holding him.  

Dripping wet, he stepped from the shower and toweled off as he headed for the bed.  He tossed the towel on the second bed and then turned down the blankets on the bed closest to the window.  Naked, his hair still damp, he slipped between the crisp sheets and rested his head on the thin pillows.  He reached for his wallet and slipped out the photograph of Shay he carried with him.  

He had taken the picture of her during Cody and Katie's wedding reception.  She wore an elegant, backless blue evening dress and her hair was swept up into a loose twist.  Tendrils of her beautiful honey blonde hair danced around her face.  She had been waltzing with Thomas, coming out of a turn, when she caught sight of him and smiled.  A smile so charming, so serene, that it warmed his heart each time he saw the photograph and each time he swore he fell in love with her all over again.

His fingers slid over her image in a loving caress.  _Tout au long de l'éternité, mon cadeau. N'oubliez jamais, je t'aime_ (Throughout eternity, my gift.  Never forget, I love you).   He kissed it lightly and placed it back into his wallet.  Reaching over, he switched off the bedside lamp and closed his eyes.  As he dozed somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, he prayed when next he opened his eyes, he would find this day had all been a horrible nightmare.

***

After pulling Frank's desk chair over to the window in his office, Shay curled up and stared at the night sky.  The moon was full and the stars twinkled merrily as if all was right with the world.  It saddened her to watch the lights dance in the heavens.  The last time she had taken a moment to watch them, she had done so while making love to her husband.  

She sighed and wiped away the tear that trailed down her cheek.  Where was he?  What was he doing?  Was he as terrified as she was?  Closing her eyes, she rested her head on the back of the chair and sobbed, _"Revenu à moi, tigre. Je ne suis rien sans tu__._ (Come back to me, Tiger.  I am nothing without you_ )" _

Alone now and behind closed doors, she felt no need to put on a brave front.  The tears flowed from her eyes unchecked.  She wept for many things, but mostly knowing Frank was unaware she was safe and, most likely, torturing himself over her capture.  She prayed that Cody would be able to hack into Wingard's personal files and that they would be able to get to Frank before he carried out his 'mission'.  

She groaned with the pain of her heartache; every fiber of her being felt as though it was being put through the wringer.  There was only one thing that would ease the ache and that was being held within Frank's arms.  The thought that she might never feel that safe haven again caused the sobs to become harsher, wracking her body with their intensity as she hugged herself in an attempt to halt them.

"Ma-mommy?" 

Shay gasped at the sound of the tiny voice.  She slowly uncurled herself from the chair as she attempted to wipe her tears away with the back of her hands.  "LJ?" she whispered, opening her arms to her four year old.  

LJ snuggled into her lap and placed his tiny hand in his mother's.  "Why you cwying, Mommy?"  When his only answer was a sniffle, he asked, "Did daddy come say 'bye to you, too?"

The sight of his big blue eyes beginning to fill with tears urged her to fight and hold back her own.  It took all she had in her to speak without her voice breaking, to hide from him her fear and desperation.  "No, Little Man," she whispered softly as he scooted around on her lap to wrap his arms around her neck.  "Daddy didn't say 'bye to Mommy," she answered truthfully.  

"Wha's matter?" he asked, hugging her neck tightly.

Shay rocked him slowly, patting his back soothingly.  "Oh, baby, how do I explain this to you?"  She pressed a kiss to his temple as she stroked his hair.  "Daddy had to go away for a while and Mommy didn't get a chance to see him before he left." 

LJ pulled back just the slightest and looked intently into his mother's eyes.  His little hands stroked her cheeks, tenderly brushing away the remaining tears.  "Daddy said he loves us and we need to be good."

Shay closed her eyes and hugged him tightly.  "We love Daddy, too.  Don't we?"  She felt his little head nod against her shoulder.  "And we'll be good, won't we?"  Again, he nodded.  "Because..."

"Because he loves us, Mommy."

"Yes, baby.  Because he loves us."  The sound of another tiny voice registered and she looked up to see Ariel standing in the doorway holding Katie's hand.  

"I'm sorry, Shay," she said, stepping into the room, cradling Zack on her hip.  "I was going to check first before I brought them up, but LJ got away from me."

Shay smiled softly and kissed the top of LJ's head before moving him off her lap.  "Don't worry about that, Katie," she assured her as she knelt down and swept Ariel up into a tight hug.  "Thank you for bringing them to me.  I really needed this."

"Hiiiiigh, Mommy!" Ariel squealed, mashing her nose against Shay's

"Hey, sweet pea.  How you doin'?" Shay asked, pulling away to kiss the tip of Ariel's little nose.

Katie's eyes shone with unshed tears for her friend and the pain she was going through.  "I'm really...I..."  

Shay looked up and nodded, signaling she understood.  "Thank you, really."   She stood and took Zack into her arms, drinking in the sweet baby smell of his skin and hair.  Looking at each of her children, so beautiful and healthy, gave her a stronger sense of herself.  She was their mother and very much their life at such tender ages.  Whatever occurred in the coming days, she needed to remember that and stay strong for them.  

"I don't know what's going to happen, Katie, but I really need your help," Shay announced suddenly.  

"Anything, Shay.  You know that," she answered.

"Thanks.  Dad's going to be occupied here or wherever we may have to go suddenly," she explained, passing Zack back to Katie and then lifting Ariel into her arms.  Taking LJ by the hand, she proceeded to the door, "I'd be in your debt if you would stay at the house and take care of the kids for a while."

Katie nodded and placed one arm around Shay's shoulder, giving her a loose hug.  "I'll take good care of them," she promised.  

"We be good, Miss Katie," LJ said, slipping his other hand into Katie's.  "We pwomised Daddy."

***

To be continued...


	7. Breakthrough

***

Yawning tiredly, Frank glanced at the dashboard clock.  He had been back on the road for nearly three hours and his legs were beginning to cramp.  He spotted the sign indicating a rest area two miles further down the road.  He stretched in the seat as best as he could and decided to take a break when he reached the rest stop.  

Parking as far away from the facilities as possible, he exited the vehicle, grateful for the chance to relieve the ache in his right leg.  Although he was in no hurry to reach his destination, he truly found a new sense of appreciation for flying.  Driving long distances had never been up there on his list of fun things to do.  

He walked leisurely toward the deserted buildings.  It was still fairly early in the morning and the travelers were sparse.  After using the facilities, he roamed the grounds for several moments before heading back to the rental vehicle.  

When he moved around the corner of the building, his eyes locked on to the blue and white semi-enclosed box.  The closer he came to it, the more his hand itched to grab hold of the receiver and dial.  He hesitated, reaching out momentarily, before dropping his hand and moving on.  

He shook his head and muttered to himself.  Wingard was no fool; he would allow for every possible scenario.  The Nest's lines were surely being monitored, as well as every cell phone belonging to his team, their friends, right down to the man who ran the cleaners where Shay took their dry cleaning.  No, if he dialed that phone, he ran the risk of Wingard taking Shay out.  He couldn't chance it, no matter how great the urge to contact his team for new developments.

He stopped at the vending area and inserted a few coins into the hot beverage machine.  He stabbed at the button and waited impatiently for the liquid to dispense.  After taking a sip of the bitter drink, he wondered why he was in such a hurry to torture his palate that way.  He shrugged and headed back to the vehicle.  Time to finish this drive.  Just a few more hours and he would be in D.C.  

And just twenty-four or so hours after his arrival, he would commit murder.  Shay's sarcastic cheer leaped into his mind.  _Yippee for me._

***

Although she had tried, at the insistence of every person hovering inside the dank warehouse, Shay had not been able to sleep.  She released a quiet breath, not wanting to disturb the others, who slept fitfully on the uncomfortable cots nearby.  All but Cody, she noted.  He must have stayed up all night.  _Bless his computer-hacking heart_.  Slipping past them, she headed to the break room and started a pot of coffee.  

She heard the slightest of noises behind her as she poured the steaming liquid into her mug.  Glancing over her shoulder, she said, "Hey, Code.  Get any sleep?"

"Naw," he answered as he wrapped his fingers around the coffee pot's handle.  "I'm close, Shay.  I can feel it.  I just hope there's something on his hard drive we can use to track Frank down."

Shay nodded and then took sip of her drink.  "It has to be there, Code."  Laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, she added, "Thank you for last night, by the way."

Cody's brow wrinkled trying to figure out what she meant.  "Uh..."

"The kids, Cody.  Thank you for having Katie bring them to see me," she said, seeing his confused expression.  "I think, if not for that visit, I would still be sulking up in Frank's office.  Wallowing in my despair."  She sighed and smiled slightly.  "You helped me realize what else needed to be focused on.  Whatever happens..."

"We'll find him, Shay," Cody insisted.  "I don't think he's through making my life miserable yet."  

It was meant as a joke and yet it felt more like some sort of eulogy.  Shay had to fight the urge to burst into tears again, especially when she saw the ones forming in Cody's eyes.  "Hey, Code-man.  Let's get back to it, 'kay?  I'll help."

Cody nodded and started back towards his console.  "You already did.  You made coffee," he stated.  "You know I can't make coffee for shit."

Shay chuckled softly.  "No, you can't.  Frank says it tastes more like mud than coffee."

"Yep, like he goes around tasting mud," Cody wisecracked and plopped down into his chair.  "Okay...here's where I get booted out."

Shay glanced up at the monitor when Cody began clicking keys furiously.  The backdoor to the firewall was password protected.  From the looks of the legal pad that lay nearby, Cody had gone through hundreds of passwords.  

"It shouldn't be much longer," he assured her.  "If my guess is right, this is the last wall I need to break through and we'll have full access to his files."

"Good job, Cody," she said, folding her arms on the desktop.  Within minutes her head rested on her arms as she dozed off.

_"Is it really what you want, or are you reacting to what happened to Nick?" Shay asked, curling up next to Frank on the comfortable bed in the chateau's large master bedroom._

_His arm went around her as she pillowed her head against his shoulder.  His fingers delicately caressed her arm.  "Does it matter?  Jesus, Ashling...haven't we been through enough?  And the kids...do they deserve to come home one day to discover some tragedy has befallen one or both of their parents?"  He kissed the top of her head softly and held her tighter when she pressed her body fully against him.  "It's a given that we'll leave them someday, but better it's from natural causes than by the hands of some criminal."_

_She nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck as he lowered her down to the mattress.  "Speaking of hands..." she whispered, lifting slightly to capture his lips in a tender kiss._

_"Yes?  What about them?" he asked, a sensual moan escaping him when she ran her hands down his spine to slide over and cup his buttocks.  _

_"Hands...yours..." she answered between kisses as she wrapped her legs loosely around his lower body.  "Touching me..."_

_"Here?" he asked seductively, running his palm over her chest and down the valley between her breasts.  _

_"Yes," she whispered._

_"And here?" He cupped her breast, kneading the soft flesh salaciously.  _

_"Oh hell, yes," she answered, bringing a hand up to slip her fingers into his hair._

_His thumb circled the hardened nipple and he lowered his head to capture it between his teeth, flicking his tongue over it wickedly.  He looked up into her face and smiled devilishly.  "Just my hands, then?"_

_"No no no, Tiger.  Use it all...everything you've got," she urged, impassioned._

_"Your wish is my command, mon cadeau," he answered with a playful grin.  "Where should I begin?"_

_"Begin?"  She smiled in mock innocence.  "Why...begin at the beginning, mon tigre chéri."_

_Frank chuckled and brought his lips within a breath of hers.  "In the beginning, there was no patience."  _

_Passion danced deep within her sky blue eyes as her tongue slid out to wet her lips.  "I don't want patience right now, amoureux.  I want **you**."_

"WHOO HOO!" 

Shay woke with a start and nearly fell off the chair.  Her heart beat furiously within her chest and she stared dumbfounded as Cody danced circles around his computer console.  "Sweet Jesus, Cody!  You nearly gave me a heart attack!"  She couldn't help but smile when Cody at least had the decency to look sheepish.  But the smiled faded instantly when she recalled her dream and how safe and loved she felt at that moment in time.  She ached to return to the haven of that dream.  

"Sorry, Shay," he apologized as he returned to his chair.

"What's all the noise?" Thomas questioned, entering the room.  

Normally a dapper man, Thomas' hair went in a thousand different directions, his eyes were half-closed with sleep, and the clothes he slept in were well wrinkled and mussed.  It took all Cody's reserve not to make fun of him.  "Sorry for waking you, Sir.  We finally managed to break through the firewall."

"Good, good," Thomas acknowledged.  "It won't be long now."

Jake, Alex, and Derek entered the room looking every bit scruffy as Thomas.  Cody couldn't resist.  "Man, you guys look like something the cat dragged in."

"Shut up, Cody," Alex barked.  "Coffee...cigarette.  After that I might not smack you."

"Of course, she still might," Jake commented and received a whack on the arm for his troubles.

"So, you're in?" Derek asked, moving over to the computer.  "Now to find the hidden files."

Cody nodded.  "You didn't think I would assume it would be easy, did you?"  

"I suggest we all go get cleaned up and let these men do their job," Thomas interjected, nodding to Cody and Derek before taking Shay by the arm.  "A shower, a change of clothes, and some food in you, young lady."

Shay rolled her eyes as she walked along side her father.  "I'm fine, Dad."

"Right," he agreed.  He stopped at the door that led to the lockers and showers.  "I'm going to dash out, get cleaned up, and will bring back breakfast."

"Thanks, Dad," she replied and leaned up to kiss his cheek.  

"No need," he assured.  

"C'mon, Shay," Alex said sleepily.  "I think I want a shower more than coffee and a smoke."  She glanced over her shoulder at Jake who was pouring himself a cup of coffee.  "Grumpy in there wants the showers.  I say we use up all the hot water before he can get in there."

Shay shook her head.  "Alex, you're horrible," she admonished softly and followed Alex into the shower.  She knew it was just Alex's way of trying to keep her spirits up, but there was really only one thing that would truly succeed at that task.  "Alex, you don't have to watch me every second.  I'm fine."

Alex nodded.  "Sure, Shay.  I know that, it's just..."

"Misery loves company?" she joked halfheartedly.  Inside, her heart and mind cried out with anguish she did not wish to share with anyone.  There was no way to contact Frank.  _Call, Tiger...just call and you'll know everything is all right._  But, she knew he wouldn't.  The last thing he would do was something that would risk her life.   His loyalty and his love for her would be his undoing.

"Something like that," Alex agreed.  

"You're a good friend, Alex."  

"Shay..."

"Yeah, Alex?"

Alex bit her lip thoughtfully as she began undressing.  "I overheard Frank on the phone one day...it was shortly after you returned from France."

"Oh?" Shay turned on the hot water and stepped out of her remaining clothes.  "Is something bothering you, Alex?" she asked before moving under the stream of water.

"He's opted out of the agency.  He's leaving the SOG," she admitted sadly as she ducked under the spray of water next to Shay.

Shay was silent for a moment, letting the water massage the aching muscles of her neck and shoulders.  It had been a difficult decision to make, and yet they felt it was the right thing to do.  Moving out of the country might not solve every problem, but they were hopeful that a fresh start would allow them to lead a more normal life.  Finally, she turned toward Alex.  "We're leaving the country, Alex.  We want the chance to raise our kids with the absence of fear."

"But..."

"It's not easy for us," she interrupted.  "We consider you all our family, and we have every intention of keeping in touch.  We don't want to lose you, but we can't continue like this."  

"I understand," Alex stated.  "I...it will take some getting used to."

"For us, too.  As much as we love you, our family has to come first," Shay explained.

"And your father?"

Shay nodded.  "He's moving as well.  He doesn't want to be away from his grandchildren."  She ducked her head under the water to wet her hair and then grabbed the shampoo.  "And since he's the only grandparent the kids have, we don't want to deny them that.  Besides, I've grown rather attached to him."

"I'd never thought that would happen, not after the way you two acted in Colombia," Alex chuckled.  "So, as long as you stay in touch..."

"We will, promise," Shay replied, smiling.  "And hell, you can always move there someday."

"Depends on where 'there' is," Alex laughed.

"We'll let you know when we decide," Shay laughed along with her.  "Thanks, Alex...for taking my mind off things for a few minutes."

"What are friends for?" Alex asked.  "Of course, Jake may disagree if we use all the hot water."

***

To be continued...


	8. A Close Call

***

Frank entered the grand hotel with his bag in one hand and his room key gripped firmly in the other.  As he passed by staff members, they approached him only to fall back and away from him when they were met by his icy glare.  He wanted no contact with these people.  He wanted only to get this over with.  He was thankful he reached the elevator without anyone stopping him.

The cell phone he had been provided with began its annoying ring almost the second he slipped the cardkey into the slot.  He let the door slide shut behind him before pushing the send button.  "Monitoring the electronic locks, Wingard?"

"Of course.  I had to know when you checked into the room," he answered smugly.  "Now, there will be a knock on your door...oh...about...now."

When Wingard finished speaking, Frank heard a brisk rap on the door.  

"Answer it," Wingard commanded.

Upon opening the door, he found no one waiting to greet him.  What he did find was a large briefcase sitting on the floor at his feet.  Picking up the heavy case, he brought it inside the room and set it on the king sized bed.  

"Open it."

Frank did so grudgingly.  He unhooked the silver metal clasps and lifted the lid slowly.  What he found did not surprise him; all the pieces necessary to assemble a high powered rifle.  Sharpshooter.  He released a low growl at the sight of the weapon.  Soon, he would be using it to snuff out the life of one person to save the most important person in his universe.  He hated himself as each minute ticked by, but it had to be done.  It would be done.

"Fine, it's open and the message has been received.  Loud and clear," Frank snarled, snapping the case closed.

"Oh, there is one more thing, Donovan."

"Of course there is.  There is _always_ one more thing in your world," he groused, slumping down onto the bed.

"You'll need to open the case again," Wingard taunted.

Wanting to reach through the phone and choke the man until his life was extinguished, Frank had no choice but to comply.  "It's open."

"There a small piece of foam that's removable in the upper right hand corner."

Frank reached out and pulled back the small piece of foam.  His eyes fell onto the small vial that rested snugly in the tiny cubby.  He lifted the little cylinder into his hand and watched in fascination as the single white capsule slid from one end to the other.

"It's your out, Donovan.  You take that after the job's done and your family will be spared the awful nightmare that you committed this crime.  I'll make sure you're never discovered as the trigger man."

Frank shook his head, his eyes still fixated on the little pill.  He was no fool; he knew exactly what was contained in the capsule.  "Why are you doing this?"

"Like I said...maybe I just like messing with you, Donovan.  After all, I've come in second to you one too many times."

Frank's brow puckered into a confused frown.  Never in his life had he even worked with the man, how could he have 'come in second'?  "You're insane."

"Possibly, but that really has no bearing on the matter at hand."

"No, I suppose not," Frank admitted, running a hand through his hair.  He was getting one hell of a headache.  He rubbed futilely at the aching muscles at the base of his neck, but it was useless.  "Are you done?"

"Remember, the decision is yours."

"Who the fuck are you kidding, Wingard?" Frank barked.  Tired of taking this lying down, he growled into the phone, "You think I don't realize if I make the _wrong_ decision, there isn't someone waiting around the corner to put a bullet in my brain?"

"There's only one way to find out," Wingard snarled.  "Of course, make the wrong decision..."

"And Shay dies...yes, you've played that tune enough that I'm sure you've worn a groove into the recording."

"Do what you're told and I'll make sure your family is well taken care of."

"I'm doing what your want; you stay _away_ from my family after this is over!" Frank spat at the phone only to hear a distinctive click and the sound of the dead line.  He growled furiously as he tossed the tiny phone across the room and watched it splinter into several pieces.

***

Curling up with the fifth of scotch he found nestled snugly among the many bottles of liquor on the suite's well-stocked wet bar, Frank removed the wrapping from the unopened bottle.  He didn't bother with a glass; as soon as he uncapped it, he took a long pull from the bottle.  The liquid burned a path down his throat and he welcomed the pain.  More than that, he welcomed the numbness that would soon follow after a few good swallows of the harsh liquid.  

With an impatient sigh, he pressed a button on the television's remote control and waited the few seconds for the picture to come up.  He was searching for something, anything, but the news gave no allusion to what had happened or become of his wife.  Truly, he wasn't surprised.  

He sighed again, this time harder and more forcefully, before he gulped down more of the scotch.  He was well on his way to becoming far greater than just intoxicated.  What was that crass term Shay used?  "I'm getting _shitfaced_!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.  His voice echoed and reverberated throughout the room, and he more than likely disturbed any nearby patrons, but he really didn't give a shit.  

He speed clicked through the channels, practically making himself dizzy.  Between the alcohol and the flashing images, he was beginning to feel as though he was on one crazy trip.  That could explain this whole situation, actually.  He wasn't really going to blow someone's brains out the following morning; he was just on some bender or something.  _Bad mushrooms or some weird drug someone slipped me._  That thought just sent him into a fit of laughter.

His laughter subsided when he came across some reality based television show.  He really hated those things; all hype and irrational situations that a normal person would not be faced with.  How is _that_ reality?  This one was "Fear something or other".  He really wasn't interested enough to get the title correct.  All he knew was that the participants were paid to face their greatest fear.  "You want some fucking reality, Mister?" he barked at the series' host.  "I'll give you reality.  How 'bout murder in exchange for your wife's life?"  He laughed harshly and took another swallow from the bottle.  "Oh, and don't forget the little white pill!  Now there's some fucking reality for you."

He growled irritably as he clicked off the television and tossed the remote onto the bedside stand.  He was too messed up to focus on anything but his own misery.  After another swallow of scotch, his eyes drifted toward the telephone.  

--

"Sir, he's dialed an outside line."

Wingard paced the small room.  Donovan knew the price of contacting _anyone_.  How stupid can one man possibly be?  Wingard immediately dialed the facility in Chicago where Donovan's wife was being held.  What he was told upon connecting with the lead agent astounded him.  "Why wasn't I notified?"

"Sir, we were under _your_ orders not to contact you in case Donovan's team could track you in _any_ way.  The risk was too great."

"Idiot!" Wingard spat.

"And sir, it was also more than apparent that Agent Donovan was still on track to carry out the mission."

"Damn you, Derek!" Wingard screamed, snapping his cell phone shut and cramming it into his pant's pocket.

--

Frank sat on the edge of the bed, one hand held the receiver to his ear while the other balanced the bottle of scotch on his knee.  He noted absently that at least a quarter of the amber liquid had disappeared.  Had he drank that much?  He rolled his eyes at the thought.  _Like it really matters at this point, dumbass?_  

Frantic for any news, he had to know if there had been any developments.  Out of habit and with a mind clouded heavily by alcohol, he had begun dialing Shay's cell phone.  It had taken two rings for the memory of her abduction to seep through the haze.  He then dialed the nest.

--

Half asleep, Shay reached for the phone where she was perched next to Cody at his computer.  By the time she clumsily brought it to her ear and whispered a throaty "Donovan", the line went dead.  She frowned and shrugged, setting it back in its cradle.  

"Who was it?" Cody asked tiredly.

"The line went dead in my ear," she answered as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.  "Make any headway?"

"I think so.  The sonofabitch has a different encryption for each file," Cody groused.  "He's making me work for every document."

"What are you pulling up now?" she asked, propping her elbow on the desk and cradling her chin in the palm of her hand.  

"Looks like his calendar and schedule," Cody answered as the file came up.

"Good.  Maybe we'll find out where he's headed," Shay commented, pointing to the date.  "I'm going on the assumption all this is personal and he'll want to watch Frank's downfall."  

Cody glanced in her direction at the sound of the hitch in her voice.  "You okay?"

"No," she answered swiftly.  "Won't even lie about it anymore, Cody."  She leaned her head against his shoulder as she read over the file.  "This is killing me.  I know I have to hold it together for the kids, and I will, but I won't tell you it isn't tearing me apart."

"I know, Shay," he acknowledged quietly.  "I'd be more worried about you if you said it was all cool."

"Right."  She lifted a hand and pointed to a line.  "Tomorrow he'll be in D.C."

"Then maybe we should head there," Thomas inserted as he joined them at the console.  "Cody, you can remote uplink to this computer and keep working on the files en route, yes?"

"Of course, with the right equipment," he assured him.  "What are we talking here?"

Thomas held up a hand silencing Cody.  He picked up the phone and dialed a number quickly.  "Myra?  Yes.  Is it ready?  Yes.  Very good.  We'll see you in eight hours." 

"What's ready?" Cody asked curiously.

"Our transportation," Thomas said with a smile.  "Just a small jet, however, it contains all the necessary equipment you'll need to work en route."  He slapped Cody on the back.  "Even if we know where Wingard will be, it doesn't mean that's where Frank is.  And if he is, where exactly?"

Shay sighed.  "One step forward, two steps back."  

"Hang in there, Shay," Jake offered supportively from his vantage point at the conference table.

"Yeah...I'm hanging."  She stood and moved away from the group.  "Meanwhile, what hell is Frank going through?"

--

Frank groaned and slammed the phone back down after the line rang twice.  What was he thinking?  If he made that call, he might as well have put a bullet in his Ashling's brain himself.  He must be out of his mind.

Stumbling over to the wet bar, he clumsily set down the bottle of scotch before making his way to the shower.  He had been stupid to let himself get this way.  He needed to clear his head if he was going to find a way out of this mess; find a way back to his gift.

After downing a few cups of strong coffee, he made his way to the bathroom and took a long hot shower.  The effects of the alcohol were beginning to fade, although he was left with a killer headache.  _Serves you right for being careless._

Glancing at the bedside clock, he noted the time.  4am.  Seven hours and counting.

***

To be continued...


	9. Time to Kill Time to Die

***

"We're almost there," Thomas commented, sitting next to Cody.  "Anything yet?"

"It's a crap shoot, Sir," Cody complained.  "The files are labeled by numbers.  Accessing each file has given me the code to those numbers."

"I see."

"Yes, and now I'm searching for anything that references Frank Donovan."

"How long will it take?" Thomas asked anxiously.

Cody glanced at his watch.  9am.  "I'm hoping to have it within the next few minutes."

"Please hurry, Cody," Shay pleaded.  "I just _know_ we're running out of time."

Cody looked up at Shay, who sat across the aisle from him.  Dark circles from lack of sleep had formed under her eyes and she looked utterly beaten down.  Other than willing his computer to work faster, he was at a loss.  There was nothing else he could do.  "I'm sorry, Shay," he whispered dejectedly.

"It's okay, Code.  I know you're doing everything possible," she replied, sadness dripping from every word.

"I..." Cody began and was cut off by the rapid beeps that emitted from his computer indicating it had found something in its search.  "Got it!"

"Oh, God!" Shay cried, jumping across the aisle to look over his shoulder.  "What..."

"Hmm...Just what I suspected," Thomas said, his eyes searching the document quickly.  "He's been watching Donovan since his admittance into the CIA.  Look..."

"I see," Shay answered.  "He was behind the hit on Frank.  Sweet Jesus!"

"What?" Jake and Alex asked in unison.  The area was too cramped around Cody for them to get a look at the file.

"Patriaka," Cody spat.  "He gave Frank over to Patriaka."

"That's why he sent Rudolf after Frank," Shay growled.  "The sonofabitch set Frank up and, instead, Nick was taken and tortured."  She turned her head, her eyes locking onto Thomas'.  "Daddy..._why_?"

He shook his head.  She was demanding answers he just could not give.  "Shay...there's nothing in the file saying why he's doing this and I just don't know.  From the standpoint of the head of the CIA, I see no plausible reason to go after Frank."

"So, it is personal," Shay concluded.  "What connection do they have?"

"As far as I could determine, there wasn't any," Thomas stated.  "And here...the end of the file.  Frank _is_ in D.C."

Shay frowned.  "But...it doesn't say why."

"We're no closer than we were before," Alex growled.

"Keep looking, Cody," Thomas ordered.

"Yes, sir."

***

As wakefulness approached, Frank groaned from the incessant throbbing that engulfed his entire head.  It was entirely possible if he made any sudden movements it would explode violently off his shoulders.  Of course, that was an extreme exaggeration, but he now remembered why he kept his drinking binges to a minimum.  How would he ever live through this hangover?  Oh wait, that's right, he wasn't going to.

"_Go away,_" he barked and rolled onto his side when he heard a female voice call out "housekeeping" just before the door opened.  He didn't even bother to open his eyes when she spoke again.  It was much too painful a task.

"But, Sir, I must clean..."

"I said...go...a-way."  He opened his eyes then, wide, and turned an icy glare onto the hotel maid.  "Do not make me say it again."

"Na-no, Sir," she answered, frightened by the vacant look in his eye.  Without another sound, she backed out of the room and disappeared.

Another groan escaped him as he attempted to sit upright.  _So much for coffee and trying to stay awake._  The scotch had won the battle and he had eventually passed out on the large bed.  Slowly, he turned his head, searching for the bedside clock.  _10am,_ _time to set things up, Donovan.  Soon, it will all be over._

He made his way to the bathroom first.  After taking care of the call of nature, he reached for the soap and scrubbed the sleep from his face.  The cold water was a vigorous wakeup call to his dulled senses.  God, he needed coffee. 

He switched on the coffee maker, and while that brewed, he went to the door and put the chain in place.  He had made a lapse in judgment the previous night and left the door unchained.  If the maid had come all the way into the room, she would have seen the briefcase that lay open on the floor at the other side of the bed.  The jig would have been up then.  He would have had to take her out as well as the Senator, and he didn't think he had it in him.  

He poured the coffee and took a tentative sip, gauging the temperature of the liquid.  Sitting on the floor by the window, he began to assemble the high-powered rifle.  Taking out a target from a distance was difficult enough, but to murder someone close up, that was something different all together.  Sure, he had killed before, and with his bare hands, but always in the line of duty.  This wasn't duty, this was a sick and twisted game he was forced to play.  To take the lives of innocents, it was abhorrent.  His eyes fell onto the tiny vial with the little white pill.  It would be his out in more ways than one.  

He knew that even if Wingard backed out of his promise to keep him from being named as the shooter, Shay's father would see to it that his family did not pay for this crime.  Besides working as the perfect way for Wingard to be rid of him, it also would save Frank from dealing with the emotional aftermath of what he was about to do.  Years of therapy would never make it bearable.  It was better this way.

With the weapon assembled, Frank watched the crowd forming below through his window.  He would wait until the Senator was in place to set the weapon onto its stand.  No sense in taking chances that it be spotted by an onlooker.  

Going over to the nightstand, he retrieved the photo of Shay and stared at it for the longest time.  It calmed him somehow and made everything real to him.  He would go to hell for what he was about to do, but as long as she lived, as long as she went on, he could and would deal with his punishment for his moral actions.

The bedside clock hinted to him that the time was near.  Only a half hour left before show time.  He grimaced as he opened the window.  A band had set up to entertain the crowd before the Senator's speech and Q&A session.  It was a good turnout.  Frank estimated three or four hundred people crawled the grounds near the Potomac.  

--

The plane touched down as Cody was pulling up the latest file.  There was no indication what Frank had been sent to D.C. for and Cody was well past anxious.  This file was the only one that referenced the city and he prayed there was something contained within it to give them a clue where to head next.

"It's a long shot..." he said, closing down the computer.

"Tell us on the way," Thomas insisted as they disembarked from the plane.  "There's a car waiting for us outside."

"Good, we'll need to hurry," he said, following him closely.  "The only thing I can find is a rally at the Potomac for Senator Baxter."

Thomas stopped in his tracks just before reaching the vehicle.  "Good Lord!"

"What, Dad?"  Shay asked, climbing into the vehicle's back seat.  

"Watergate Hotel," Cody barked at the driver after everyone had seated themselves in the large sedan.  "And hurry!"

Thomas called CIA headquarters hoping to be patched through to the Senator's Security team; however, he was informed that they could not be reached.  "Land lines are down," Thomas informed them, "and they're telling me that they cannot reach any of the team's cell phones."

"You know they're under orders, don't you?" Derek spoke for the first time in hours.  "Wingard, I'm sure, has had all communications with the hotel and the Senator's staff cut off.  He won't take a chance in anyone interfering."

"Well, we're interfering," Shay spat. 

--

While, unbeknownst to Frank, his team raced toward the hotel and the political rally, he placed the sharpshooter's rifle into its stand.  The band was playing, entertaining the crowd below, while he watched Senator Baxter through the scope.  He trained the crosshairs on her as she moved to the side of the stage, completely out of the crowd's, and his, line of sight.  She wasn't due to step up to the podium for another ten minutes.  

His heart thumped wildly in his chest and his pulse throbbed rapidly at his temples.  His headache was excruciating and it took all his concentration to focus his vision.  Of course, he wasn't all that keen on seeing what he was about to do, let alone focusing on it.

He took one last look at the picture of Shay.  "_Votre rémission est toute mon âme cherchera, mon cadeau._"  Tucking the photo in his shirt pocket, he settled on his knees at the window.  With the butt of the rifle fitted snugly against his shoulder, he peered through the high-powered scope again and lined up his target.    

Votre rémission est toute mon âme cherchera, mon cadeau. = Your forgiveness is all my soul will seek, my gift.

***

"Come on, come on!" Jake shouted into his ear mic over the noise from the nearby crowd and the sound of the band testing their instruments.  "Spread out and take different routes to the stage."

"I can barely see the stage," Thomas replied.  "We've got to hurry.   Go in pairs.  Jake, Alex take the right.  Cody you go left with Shay.  I'll take Derek and try to make it through the center of this mob."

Everyone nodded their agreement and headed off in their respective directions. 

Cody latched onto Shay's hand as he pushed people aside, shoving his badge in their faces as he went.  She helped shove the crowd aside when needed as they threaded their way through the mass.  She leaped up to see over the crowd.  It felt as though they were mired in quicksand and the stage moved farther and farther away.  She searched the crowd frantically as they moved along.  _My God, Baby...where** are** you?_

_'So lately, been wondering  
Who will be there to take my place  
When I'm gone, you'll need love_

_To light the shadows on your face'_

The lyrics to the song  from the band at the water's edge of the Potomac drifted up to Frank's open window.  The words hit him at his very soul and caused his vision to blur as tears stung his eyes.  It was as though the fates had chosen a song that would rip his heart from his chest.  _Care to heap any more on me?_  Where was his Shay at this moment?  Had Wingard released her yet?  Would he?  

He moaned and pulled away from the rifle's scope.  He had nearly forgotten something else that would need to be handled as soon as he pulled the trigger.  His eyes fell on the small vial still nestled snugly in the briefcase.  _Time to die, Donovan._

_  
'If a great wave shall fall _

_And fall upon us all  
Then between the sand and stone_

_Could you make it on your own'_

"Do you see him?  Do you?" Shay shouted.  _My God, he's here...he's here **somewhere**!  I can feel him...so much pain.  Where are you, Tiger?_

"Not yet," came the chorus of voices.  

"Damn it!" she screamed.  "Would you people fucking _move_!" She felt a firm tug on her arm as Cody pulled her in the opposite direction after clearing a small path through the mob.  "We'll never get to the stage this way, Cody!"

"We have to, Shay!  There's no other way," he responded.

_'If I could, then I would,  
I'll go wherever you will go  
Way up high or down low, _

_I'll go wherever you will go'_

Frank resumed his position at the window.  The small white capsule was secured between his teeth.  He often wondered if he would ever be in a situation where he would resort to the 'suicide pill' before divulging classified information to the enemy.  He never thought _he _would be the enemy, and yet that was exactly how he felt.  The pill was encased in a hard plastic so it would not dissolve while held in the mouth, it would take a firm bite to crack it open and release the cyanide.  The rifle's recoil should handle that nicely.  It would cause him to bite down reflexively.  He wouldn't even have to give it a second thought.

_'And maybe, I'll find out  
A way to make it back someday  
To watch you, to guide you, _

_Through the darkest of your days'_

Shay hopped up onto Cody's back to look over the crowd.  "Another five, six feet until we reach the stage, Code!"

Cody grunted as she climbed down off his back.  "Anyone closer?"

"Hell, no!" Alex yelled.  "I swear these people are _idiots_!"

"We're farther behind you, Shay," Thomas called.

Continuing to push ahead, Shay scanned the area searching for her lost love.  She wondered how the others would feel about her if they knew her only concern was her husband.  At this point, she really didn't care about the Senator, but getting to her meant finding Frank.  

_'If a great wave shall fall _

_And fall upon us all  
Then I hope there's someone out there  
Who can bring me back to you'_

Grunting, she shoved aside a rather large man who didn't bother with the fact that she showed her badge and identification.  He shoved back, hitting out at the same time, striking her on her already bruised cheek.  The force of it sent her to her knees.   

Oddly enough, she barely felt the pain.  The only thought that entered her mind was that it had caused a delay; a delay that could result in the loss of her husband forever.

'Back off, Sir!" Cody bellowed.  "Federal Agent!"  He thrust his credentials forward.  

"Forget it, Cody...Let's go," Shay insisted, getting to her feet quickly and heading toward the stage.

"Right!"

_  
'If I could, then I would,  
I'll go wherever you will go  
Way up high or down low, _

_I'll go wherever you will go'_

Frank steadied his aim. With his target square in his sights, he gently began to squeeze the trigger, but quickly let up on the pressure when someone walked into the Senator's path.  _Close call, Donovan._  His finger settled on the trigger while he waited for the unknown man to move away from his target.  All the while, his heart beat furiously in his chest.  If this kept up, he would give himself a heart attack and save himself the trouble of using the little white pill.

_'Run away with my heart  
Run away with my hope  
Run away with my love'_

"Give me a boost, Code!" Shay ordered after finally reaching the stage.  When Cody bent over and laced his fingers together, she stepped in with one foot and used his shoulder for leverage when he heaved her upward.  She latched onto the edge of the stage and lifted one leg over.  By that time, security on the stage noticed her and grabbed onto her, bringing her all the way up.  

While she shouted over the din and identified herself and Cody, several other security agents helped Cody onto the stage.  Without waiting for him, she dashed in the direction of the Senator.  "Get back stage," she ordered, giving the Senator a rough push.  

Senator Baxter, caught off guard, lost her balance, and landed hard on her backside.  She watched, dumbfounded, as the woman who accosted her ran over to one of the men in the security detail and wrenched the binoculars from his hand.

_'I know now, just quite how,   
My life and love may still go on  
In your heart, in your mind, _

_I'll stay with you for all of time'_

Frank held his eyes closed and took a few calming breaths.  This was it, it was time, and he felt the horror of it down to his very bones.  God help him for what he was about to do.  He opened his eyes to the surprising sight of the Senator being forced to the ground and the flash of a honey-blonde ponytail as the assailant's head whipped around.  _No. No, you're hallucinating.  It **can't** be her._

But it was her.  His heart literally did a flip-flop as he watched her through the rifle's scope.  "Ashling," he groaned in relief as she snatched a pair of binoculars from someone nearby and began to scan the crowd.  Slowly, carefully, his finger eased off the trigger.  His Ashling was there on the stage, searching for him.  

He held his breath while she looked over the crowd and surrounding area.  When her attention was drawn to the hotel, he released a breath as she slowly lowered the binoculars.  She had seen him and was speaking to him.  "It's over, Tiger.  Time to come home," she mouthed to him.

_'If I could, then I would,  
I'll go wherever you will go  
Way up high or down low, _

_I'll go wherever you will go'_

_Home_.  That sounded like heaven to him.  With a vengeance, he spit out the pill and watched it land carelessly on the floor near the window.  He latched the safety on the rifle and let it fall the few inches to the floor.   He was so tired, so utterly wrung out that he barely managed to pull himself onto the bed.  He sat on the edge, his head cradled in his hands.

"Oh, Ash, thank God you're safe and it's over," he whispered to himself.  The tension and fear from the last several days began to slip away and he wanted nothing more than to hold his wife in his arms.

"Not quite yet, it's not," a menacing voice declared from behind him just as he felt the cold steel of a gun barrel bite into the back of his neck.

Lyrics by The Calling from their Camino Palmero CD.  All rights reserved.

***

dun dun dun... to be continued ;)


	10. To the Victor Goes the Spoils

***

"Got him," Jake called through the earpiece.  "Looks like...the 11th floor."

"Right," Cody agreed.  "Let's go!"

--

Frank's body went rigid as he straightened up and turned slightly on the bed to see Wingard clearly.  "What the hell, Wingard?  The game is _over,_" he ground out bitterly.  "If my team's here, they're on to you.  You'll never get away with this."

Wingard nodded, a smug look planted firmly on his face.  "You're right.  There's no way to get out of this," he agreed.  "So, with nothing to lose, because my life, as I know it, is over.  I might as well get rid of you once and for all."

"Care to let me in on your little grudge before you take me out?" Frank asked incredulously.  "As far as I know, I've never done a damn thing to you, but you sure as hell think I have."  

Wingard grinned sickly and he backed away a few inches, keeping the gun leveled at Donovan's head.  "Does it matter?  Hell...not really.  Not any more.  Sadly, it was all over one little thing.  Programming your wife's mother to assassinate you, leaking information about you to Patriaka, all for what?  To remind one single-minded woman just who owns the power in this country, that's what this is all about!"

"A _woman_?!" Frank spat, disbelievingly.  "Oh please, tell me you're just insane.  That's a bit easier to digest."

"You don't believe one woman can hold that kind of control over you?" Wingard laughed at the irony.  "You, who were about to murder a United States Senator...for...what?"  His mocking laughter filled the room.  "You're an incredible hypocrite, Donovan."

"It's different...Shay's..."

"Sure it is, if you say so," Wingard spat sarcastically.  "Because the almighty Frank Donovan has got it _all_ together."  With a nod of his head, he continued, "At least that's what _she_ thought.  Always thought.  Every damn thing was about you.  Even when you married your little blonde hussy, she never stopped wanting you."

Frank blinked in realization.  The only person who fit that description was Daphne Charles.  "And taking me out of the equation will make it all right for the two of you?"

"No, never," he answered smartly.  "She'll settle for no one.  Even denied who fathered her son, the stupid bitch."

"You're..." Frank made a move to get off the bed, but was immediately met with the gun in his face.  "You're Richard's father?"

"You catch on quick.  Yes, that night...the night you have no memory of...even then you rejected her."

Frank huffed in response.  "This is...ludicrous."

"At best.  But true...every sorry word."  He stepped forward, closing the few inches between them.  "She ran to me that night.  Back then I was an up-and-comer.  I had access to everything and she gave me herself in exchange for one thing...to stay married to you."

Frank wanted to respond, but what could he say to this insanity?  As Wingard inched closer, Frank jerked his body back onto the bed.  At the same time, he quickly raised his arm, striking out, hitting Wingard's wrist.

Taken off guard, Wingard lost his grip on the weapon and it tumbled to the floor a few feet away.  Frank wasted no time, kicking upward, he struck Wingard in the side of the head, sending him reeling backward.  Leaping off the bed, he lunged for Wingard.  Balling up his fist, he prepared to strike, but Wingard recovered quickly.

Barreling forward, Wingard rammed his shoulder into Frank's midriff, knocking him to the floor.  Frank released a painful groan when Wingard planted his knee firmly in the center of his chest, anchoring him to the floor.  He tried to kick out of the hold, but Wingard had his legs pinned.  

Just as Frank reached out and latched onto Wingard's throat with his left hand, Wingard's hand closed around his own throat.  The harder his hand closed around Wingard, he felt the pressure around his throat gaining.  He could already see little white pinpricks of light, and soon he would black out or choke to death.  

Over the roaring in his ears, he heard Wingard grunting with the effort of reaching for the gun that lay a short distance away.  In a last ditch effort to stop him, Frank shoved the palm of his right hand under Wingard's chin, pushing upward.  From the corner of his eye, he could see Wingard's fingers curling around the grip of his gun.  

Wingard eased his hold on Donovan's throat long enough to bat his hand away from his face.  He reached for the gun again.  As his hand gripped the butt, he pulled it toward Donovan and felt the tension around his throat lessen.  Donovan was losing it and fast.  

Frank's eyes followed the gun, but his attention was slightly diverted when his fingers encountered an object at his fingertips.  

"Time to die, Donovan," Wingard snarled.

With a growl, Frank jerked his right arm upward, his fist covering Wingard's mouth.  "Damn right it is, you fucking lunatic!" he croaked when Wingard's grip on his throat suddenly loosened.  He watched with knowing eyes as Wingard's expression changed from victorious to one of horror.  With the heel of his hand, Frank gave a sharp push to Wingard's chin.  

As he heard the plastic crack and watched as Wingard clutched frantically at his own throat, Frank bucked his lower body, pushing Wingard off him.  He scrambled to the other side of the room and watched Wingard's body convulse as the poison entered his system.  As the quakes subsided, the former Director of the CIA lay dead; a sickly stream of foam trailed from his mouth and the faintest odor of burnt almonds assaulted Frank's nostrils.

--

Shay fidgeted nervously while she waited for Thomas to insert the passkey that he had obtained from the hotel's manager.  How long could it take to unlock one damn door?  "C'mon, Dad..._hurry_."

Thomas shook his head.  "You've never been very patient when it comes to your husband," he commented, waiting for the electronic light on the lock to flash.  

Shay pushed open the door slowly, taking in the images of the room as they were revealed to her.  The first sight she beheld was a lifeless form at the far end of the room.  She released a relieved sigh noting that the man's build was completely different from her husband's.  As the door creaked open farther, she spotted Frank sitting on the floor, propped up against the bed.  His head was lolled back against the mattress and his eyes were closed.

Even if he had not heard their voices outside the door, he would have instinctively known who was entering the room.  A sixth sense alerted him to one person in particular and, although he was overjoyed by their presence, his eyes remained closed as he listened to their soft footfalls approach.  He waited, unsure of the reaction he would receive from the people closest to him.  He sensed her kneeling before him, straddling his outstretched legs, but still he was unable to bring himself to open his eyes.  

Tender hands framed his face and he felt the soft caress of her thumbs brush lightly over his lips.  With his eyes still closed, he covered her hands with his, gently easing hers away from his face.  He felt the warm, familiar haven of her love begin to surround him as the tension and paranoia started to fade away.  

"Tiger," her feather light whisper caressed his ears.  He gave her hands a soft squeeze, but otherwise did not respond.  If he opened his eyes, what would he see?  How would she feel about him knowing what he had been about to do?  Not to mention what he _had done; the evidence of which was lying just a few feet away._

Shay frowned at his lack of response.  She ached to hold him in her arms and yet he was acting as if he wanted nothing to do with her.  She glanced up at the others, who hovered nearby, and shook her head.  "Frank," she urged.  "Look at me."  She worked her hands loose from his and eased her arms around his shoulders, molding her body to his.   Days without knowing if she would ever see him again took its toll on her and she could not hold back the tears that surfaced.  Being with him again, touching him, loving him, was like heaven on earth.   

He groaned softly and his arms went around her when he felt the sensual pressure of her body and her lips against his, urging him to respond.  The intensity, the overwhelming joy of the feel of her in his arms was mind blowing.  He responded then, hungrily, with the knowledge that she wanted him as much as she ever had.  Breaking away, breathless, he opened his eyes to look upon her.  She smiled lovingly at him through the tears that had begun falling from her sky blue eyes.  He pulled her back into his embrace, holding her tightly.  "I thought I was dreaming when I saw you on that stage," he admitted.  "I wasn't sure how you would react to knowing what I'd done."

She kissed his neck softly and whispered, "It wasn't easy finding you, Frank, but no one gave up.  Not for a minute."  She pulled away slightly and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.  "I love you, Tiger.  For better or worse, remember?"

"I've never forgotten," he responded, kissing her tenderly.  "I love you, too, _mon cadeau."_

A chorus of "glad to see ya, welcome back," caused Frank to finally glance up at the others in the room.  Unable to move due to the sweet, loving package that was perched on his lap, he merely held up a hand and thanked everyone for their help. 

"No, Jake," Frank ordered suddenly as he watched Jake advance toward Wingard's dead body.  "Don't go near him."

"Why not?" Alex asked curiously.  Her eyes moved from the body to her boss and back again.  "It's not like we've never seen a corpse before."

"That's not it," Frank replied.  He eased himself up to sit on the bed after Shay moved off his legs.  Uncharacteristically, he did not care about the "PDA", as Shay often called it.  He reached out and pulled her down onto his lap and held her tightly.  "Cyanide.  The fumes can be just as deadly as the poison itself."

"True," Thomas agreed.  "Let's vacate this room immediately."  He herded the group toward the exit and waited for Frank and Shay to join them before opening the door.  He wasn't too concerned with how Wingard died, or even that he died at the hands of his son-in-law.  The cyanide did not bother him all that much, either.  He was most concerned with getting the room cleaned and all traces of Frank Donovan erased.  Did he still hold that kind of influence over those that worked for the CIA?  Hell, yeah, he did.

Once in the hallway, he said, "Derek, go call in a cleanup crew.  I'll stay here and make sure no one enters the room until our people have a chance to erase any and all activity inside."

Derek nodded and took off running. 

Thomas clapped a hand to Frank's shoulder.  "I'll take care of this mess, Frank.  There's a car waiting outside and will take you and your team directly to the White House."  When Frank made a move to protest, Thomas held up a hand stopping him.  "Trust me, you were never here.  Whatever evidence was left behind will be eliminated.  Take Shay and the others and go."  He paused a moment while he sorted out his jumbled thoughts.  "You'll be debriefed upon arrival; the President has been made fully aware of what has been going on."

"I understand, Dad," Frank acknowledged.  "Thank you."

"I'll catch up to you there," Thomas assured them as they headed down the hall.

"You really had us worried there, Boss," Cody commented as they stepped into the elevator.    
  
"To say the least," Alex agreed.

Frank leaned back against the back wall of the elevator.  He felt the warmth of Shay's hand as it slipped into his and took great comfort in her strength.  "I had me worried, too."

There wasn't a person in the elevator that was not thinking the same thing.  Would he have actually killed Senator Baxter?  Could he?  Silence followed them down the elevator and throughout the drive to the White House.

--

"If you'll come with me, Agent Donovan?" a rather large, intimidating man insisted upon the team's entry into the White House.

"Actually, no," Frank answered simply, folding his arms over his chest.

"Pardon me?  You're scheduled for debriefing...each of you."

"I realize that, Agent," Frank responded quickly.  "I insist the entire group be debriefed simultaneously."

"I'm afraid that's against protocol," a second Agent responded.

Frank ran a hand over his jaw briefly.  "I won't budge on this one.  Call your superiors; I'm sure they'll agree.  What I have to say, my team has the right to hear.  I have nothing to hide from them."

"Very well, Agent Donovan," the first Agent stated flatly.  "Excuse me."  He stepped away from the group while he made a call.  Upon returning he said, "They have agreed to your terms.  If you will all follow me..."

***

to be continued...


	11. Love Don't Lie

***

"Full moon," Frank commented, staring up at the night sky, absently caressing his sore neck.  They had been home only a few short hours; just long enough to get settled and tuck the babies in for the night.  It took a good amount of time to calm them down after they had arrived at the house.  Katie quickly said her goodbyes to head home to her husband and Frank and Shay lavished plenty of attention on the kids.  Now it was their time. 

She smiled and joined him on the wicker loveseat they kept out on their bedroom balcony.  "So it is," she agreed, bringing her knees up and over his bare thighs as she snuggled next to him.  Smoothing out her satin robe over her legs, she couldn't help but grin over finding him out there, completely in the buff.  _Thank God it's nearly 3am. _ She laid a tender hand to the warm flesh of his chest and pillowed her head against his shoulder.  "It's good to be home."  When Frank nodded she looked up at him, her eyes locking onto his.  "I missed you...so much, Baby."

His eyes closed briefly and he pressed a kiss to her forehead.  "Same here.  Actually, I never thought I would see you again."  

Shay thought back to the debriefing, when Frank explained his part in Baxter's assassination attempt, Wingard's manipulation, Shay's abduction, and the reason behind Wingard's insanity.  It was all like some warped nightmare and she was glad it was over.

"Frank..." she began.  It was a question she had wanted to ask, but just had not found the right words.  

He sank back, pulling away from her, as if he knew what she was going to ask.  _Please don't go there, Shay._

"Would you...have?"

He released a slow breath before his eyes found hers.  What she saw in them said more to her than words could ever say.  Tears formed in the corners of his eyes and she watched as he fought to blink them back.  Her heart pounded furiously in her chest as the realization sank in of just how far he was willing to go for her.  She prayed he never had to make such a choice or sacrifice for her ever again.  

"Slide up a bit," she whispered into his ear softly.  

"Why?" he asked huskily.  

She ran her tongue along the shell of his ear before nibbling the tender lobe.  At the same time her hand trailed slowly down his chest, over his abdomen, until she met her destination.  

Frank groaned when her hand fell upon him, stroking him gently.  His arousal came on swift and hard.  "Shay Ashling Donovan," he growled softly, "just what..."

"Shhhh..." Again she urged him to slide forward a bit and when he complied with her wishes, she straddled him, wrapping her legs behind him.  

Frank placed a firm hand to her back, stroking her through the shimmering material.  Her robe gaped open and he took advantage, cupping one breast in his hand, kneading it urgently.  His lips captured hers in a heated kiss as his thumb teased her hardened nipple.  They were both breathing hard and heavy when they broke the kiss.

"I need you, Tiger," she pleaded desperately.   "Like I've never needed you before." 

He placed his hands on her hips and lifted her slightly while she guided his hardened shaft inside her welcoming sheath.  When he was fully gloved within her, he rocked her slowly at first, determined to fulfill her needs.  "I'll always need you," he moaned into her ear as she wound her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his.  

He guided her movements in a rhythmic fashion, gaining in speed and intensity as the minutes passed.  He kissed her continuously, not wanting to lose connection, needing the taste of her as much as he needed his release.  They were nearly breathless and still could not stop the kiss.  They hungered for each other with such desperation that he knew they would make love for many hours that night.  

Shay whimpered as she broke the kiss.  "Don't hold back, Tiger."  She nipped softly at his bottom lip.  "I need to feel you, every part of you."  Her lips found his again briefly.  "We'll start over," she whispered.  "Touch and taste every inch of each other."

Frank groaned harshly.  She was bringing him to the edge and he wanted to step over.  She knew every button to push and it should bother him, but it didn't.  "Tell me," he ordered softly.

Shay shook her head and bit her bottom lip lightly.  Frank still guided her over him, up and down...around.  "Give over to me, Franklin.  Give me what's yours and I'll give you what's mine," she answered seductively.

Frank tensed the moment he heard her sharp intake of breath.  He was so close, so close.  He watched in complete awe as she threw her head back, her body quivering and shaking as she met her release.  He knew she wanted to cry out, but did not want to have the entire neighborhood crash their party.  Oh, God, he needed to let go, but first there was something he must hear.  His left hand gripped the back of her head, forcing her to look at him.  "Tell me...and I'm yours, _mon cadeau._"

She stilled suddenly, staring deep into his eyes.  "I love you, Tiger," she answered his demand willingly.  When he grasped her hips and thrust into her, he cried out softly as he met his release.  She clung to him, kissing his neck, his shoulders, and all over his face.  

With his face buried in her hair, he nodded against her shoulder.  "I love you, too, Ash.  It amazes me how much," he responded, breathless.

"You amaze me," she admitted, gently caressing his back.

"How's that?" he asked, lifting his head, a small smile crossing his lips.

"That you love me," she answered simply.

"My life, my love," he stated and kissed her deeply.  He stood, lifting her up with him and carried her toward the bed.  Their night had just begun.

--

Love don't lie  
It lifts you up  
Takes you higher when high ain't enough  
Love don't lie  
It's stronger than steel  
It's got the heart and emotion to heal  
It's not as easy as it seems  
When you can't even sleep in your dreams  
Love don't lie   
And that's the truth  
Look me straight in the eye for the proof  
That love don't lie  
Yeah, love don't lie  
  


~finis~

A/N --  Thanks to everyone for reading and following along on yet another bizarre adventure for Frank, Shay, and the gang.  Again, thank you for the feedback, whether here, email, or the FLMB.  Y'all rock!  --Shelley

"Love Don't Lie" Lyrics by Def Leppard from their 2002 CD "X".  All rights reserved.


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